Once Upon a Moonless Night
by Gustave Daae Y
Summary: The Phantom never truly left Christine that night beneath a star filled sky. He has watched her from a far as he always has. He knows everything about her including that she had his son, Gustave. He will do anything to get them by his side.
1. Chapter 1: Mr Y

Once Upon a Moonless Night

Chapter 1: Darius

Coney Island stood in its glory off the shore of Manhattan, enticing every on looking to come inside. And everyone did come inside. Within it's gilded gates they found smoke and mirrors mixed with flesh and bone: unsure of who or what to trust.

Crowds were waiting outside at dawn that morning, the pinkish smoggy skyline of the industrial city acting as the backdrop to the wonderland. Kids were pressing their faces in between the spiral shaped fencing, longing for the park to open. Parents were just as anxious as the school boys and girls. Many of them had never been into the park before and the ones who had still were behaving as if they hadn't. It was like the entire park was built like a doll house: able to be switched around and changed but look like it had always looked and functioned like it did.

Suddenly, a little ways behind the gate and where everyone could see, a puff of smoke and fire appeared. The collective crowd jumped at the sudden display. Within the fire and smoke was a lanky man. While the island behind him was more colorful than a kaleidoscope, the man was wearing only white. From his top hat to his boots: everything was white save for a few silver fastenings adorning it's edges. Even his face was covered by a white half mask that was adorned with silver and white studded diamonds.

The now silent crowd looked at the ringmaster in fascination.

"Welcome," The man said, his voice oozing charm, his words sticking to the crowd like sap on fruit flies, "my dear ladies and gentlemen, to my world of mystery and illusions. Within this park, reality fades away to make room for the extraordinary. Nothing is what it seems though I can't tell you if it's darker or lighter than what you imagine it to be. But be weary, my dear friends, because as soon as you enter these gates, you leave behind the world you once knew and you will never get it back."

He tossed his hand up, a white and silver cane in his hand, and on his command another burst of smoke and fire engulfed him. His cape fanned out behind him, revealing the detailed blue, purple and pink galaxy with silver stars embroidered within the lining.

"I, my friends," He continued his performance, the crowd clinging to his words, "am Mr. Y. and this is my world. Welcome, my guests, to Phantasma."

He pointed his cane at the gates and the threw themselves open. At the same time, the entire island lit up. Rides began to operate. Everything came alive. While looking almost desert a few moments ago, the island was now bustling. The crowd rushed in, surrounding the performer but he vanished in a puff of smoke right before their eyes.

The members of the crowd looked around, desperate to find the showman. Then came a voice from the roof of one of the fun houses.

"Don't worry, my dear guests." The white clad Mr. Y. said, "I have no intention of leaving you. I will always be nearby. But don't wait for me: go enjoy yourselves while I make the magic happen. You'll see me if you look hard enough. Think of it as a game."

And once more he was gone.

But he didn't stay gone for long.

Throughout the entire day, he kept popping up to startle guest though they all enjoyed his presence.

"Are you enjoying yourself miss?" The white clad man asked a woman from behind.

She jumped and squealed, her friends following suit though they had seen him appear long before his target did.

"Oh yes." The girl said blushing and fanning herself with her hand. "It's so fascinating here. So odd."

"I'm glad to hear that, young lady."

He made an extravagant gesture with his hand and a white rose appeared in his hand.

"For you," He said, handing the flower to her.

The girl smiled broadly and her blush deepened, her friends squealing like pigs at the gesture.

"Enjoy your day, young lady." He said, a charming smile on his lips, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his dazzling mask.

The girls giddily flounced off, not noticing that their earrings and bracelets were now missing nor really caring when they did notice. It was such a magical place and Mr. Y was quite the marvel.

…

"And it's only for you!" Meg and the chorus finished off the last note of the ditty that would be stuck in everyone's head's for the remainder of the day.

She did a twirl as she left the stage, letting the young men in the audience get another peek under her already scandalously short skirt.

"Isn't she lovely, ladies and gentlemen?" Mr. Y. told the crowd as they cheered louder than a baseball stadium. "Unfortunately that's the end of our show."

The crowd gave a collective disappointed moan.

"Now now my friends," Mr. Y. calmed the crowd, "the funs not done yet. There's an entire park to explore and more shows throughout the rest of the day and a special performance for you adults once the sun goes down."

He gave a suggestive wink to the crowd, several young men catching the drift.

"But for now," He tossed his cape dramatically over his shoulder, the detailed galaxy lining in view though still mostly covered by the white fabric, "go explore the wonders my world has to offer."

With a puff of smoke and a flash of lightning, he was gone.

Meg fanned her hand to clear the smoke collected from the effect and the countless lit cigarettes within the room.

"You only get ten minutes before your next show," Giry reminded the backstage crew and performers, "And girls, you were off on some of your beats. Mr. Brown, if I see that again you'll be out of a job."

Six years hadn't changed much.

"Once again, Miss Giry," a man she knew all too well said behind her, "he blew them all away."

"Cut it out with the smoke and mirrors, Darius." Meg rolled her eyes and let out a yawn.

"Long night last night?" Darius said, removing his dazzling white mask. "Gash this thing is irritating."

"Yeah long night." Meg said, letting loose another wide yawn. "It's only the third week of being open and it feels like I've been doing this for years."

"Well I have something that might cheer you up."

Darius handed her his flask and that morning's newspaper. Meg went for the drink first, gulping the thing down, knowing Darius wouldn't mind too much: most likely he had stolen the booze to begin with. The paper was forgotten until Darius pointed to the headline.

"That's your old friend right?" He asked, his cocky smile plastered on his sweaty face.

Meg read the headline. Though she had lived there for the past 6 years, she still didn't fully understand English. But she understood enough.

"Christine is coming to Manhattan?" Meg said, her face brightening up.

"At the end of summer." Darius confirmed. "She's performing for the opening of Hammerstein's opera house."

"Is she staying long?"

"I wouldn't know, though I'd imagine she would."

"It would be so nice to see her again. I'd love to show her the island."

"I'd sooner have the USDA here than Christine Daae." Giry said, cutting into the conversation. "If we're lucky and if she knows what's good for her, she'll stay away."

"Mother, you couldn't really not want to see Christine." Meg argued, a bit shocked at the cruelty in her mother's voice.

"Of course I would like to see Christine again." Giry assured, feeling a touch of sentiment towards the girl. "But if she comes anywhere near this island, He will unravel."

"I'm not saying you're wrong," Meg said, knowing full well that the boss was about as stable as a house of cards. "But I still want to see Christine when she comes."

"No doubt he will too."

"Does he know?"

"I can assure you he doesn't." Nadir said approaching the group of the ones that actually knew the boss in the flesh. "And I personally do not want to be the one to tell him. I just can from up there and I am not going back up until I have to."

"What's wrong this time?" Giry asked, wondering just how much of a mess they might be in.

"He just finished a song," Nadir said, rubbing his temple with his fore fingers, "something that he's calling his _magnum opus_ but the only person he wishes for it to be song by is…"

"Christine." They all said with a collective moan.

"She must've been somethin' for him to still pine for her." Darius said, having never met the girl but knowing exactly what she looked like at every stage of her life.

"She's a good girl." Giry said, pitying and envying Darius at the same time. "But she has a tendency to not realize the things going on around her. Especially if it's dangerous."

"So…" Meg timidly chimed in, "who's gonna tell him?"

"I'll do it." Darius said instantly, snatching the paper. "Maybe it'll finally get him to cheer up a bit. You would think making 10,000 on opening week would get the man to flash a smile."

"Actually, it was 15,000." Nadir corrected. "I redid the numbers yesterday. Some of the employees had tried to make off with some of the funds."

Darius, white cape still trailing behind him, headed to the top of the theater to the office that overlooked the entire island. Despite having several ways to reach it, the office never had people coming up to it. Every entrance was hidden, closed off or both. But Darius wove his way through the tunnels and up the stairs as he had done numerous times before. Once he reached the top where the staircase just seemed to end for no rhyme or reason, He leaned against a wall. He heard the grinding of gears and the hiss of machines before the wall opened revealing a dimly lit but extravagant office.

His desk sat empty: nothing on top of it and no one sitting in it's chair.

But he heard music. Loud, chaotic but extravagant and breathtaking. And angry. Darius couldn't pinpoint what made it so, but the music reeked of dangerous rage.

Knowing better than to interrupt him while he was playing, Darius placed the newspaper on the desk where it sat for the remainder of the day.

…

Erik wasn't sure how long he had been in his music room in his furious rage of emotionally driven genius nor did he particularly care to figure out. There was no reason to care what day it was. If those pests that were using his brain for money wanted something from him, they would come and find him.

His rage had finally given it's last whimper and he gave a long and deep sigh.

He looked up at the painting above his organ. Though painful, she was his muse and couldn't play or create without at least a piece of her by his side. Despite feeling a rush of joy and pride looking at the painting of the beautiful goddess of a woman with the small bundle in her arms, he did not smile.

He turned away from the painting and walked away, deciding to waste his time on the business that he had created.

There was a newspaper on his desk. He almost threw it away, not particularly caring about gossip even when it centered around him, but then he saw the headline.

He snatched up the paper and read and reread the article until he could recite it by heart. She was coming. Christine...Christine was coming to Manhattan. Her entire family. The beautiful goddess of music and her young progeny were coming.

"Christine...Christine…" He whispered her name, the name sounding like a love song how he uttered it. "Christine…"

Come what may, he thought darkly to himself, he would hear her sing.

When the summer died, they would belong to him.


	2. Chapter 2: Declaration

Chapter 2: Declaration

Christine stood at the edge of ocean liner. She took a deep breath, taking in the salty air. Tomorrow she would be in Manhattan...she would be in America. She never had interest in seeing the country on the other side of the pond. She had always been content with the beauty of France. No doubt the skyline that would soon appear wouldn't compare to the beauty of Paris.

She felt a pair of hands hold her waist.

"Good evening, my darling." Raoul whispered lovingly.

"Raoul." Christine smiled.

The two lovingly embraced. Raoul planted countless kisses on his wife's face and she returned the favor.

"Gustave is finally sleeping." Raoul said, comforting his lovely little wife. "And his fever finally broke. Our little fighter is going to be fine."

"That's a relief." Christine said with a sigh.

The two continued to stare at the sunset, savoring the moment of marital bliss.

"I feel so bad about all of this." Raoul admitted.

"Darling it's not your fault." Christine assured him. "Everyone stumbles upon hard times."

"I still should be able to provide for my family." Raoul said, "I hate making you sing...I know you don't like to anymore…"

"It's alright, Raoul." Christine said though she knew perfectly well it wasn't. "I don't mind too much."

"Christine...Christine...Christine…"

It wasn't Raoul's voice.

Christine looked around for the man who the voice belonged to, her heartbeat going rapid.

"Christine?" Raoul asked. "What are you looking for? What's wrong?"

"Uh um nothing." Christine said, shaking her head and coming back to reality.

Why wouldn't his voice just fade. Why did his ghost haunt her wherever she went.

She took a deep breath.

'He's dead' she reminded herself, 'he's been dead for 6 years. He died only a few days after he left you… he's not coming back…'

Tomorrow, she would be in a new place. If there was one good thing that would come from this trip, it was a place He had never step foot on. She would be free from his memory there.

…

"So you've always known?" Christine stated, disgusted.

"That on that heavenly night when you returned to your master he gave you a son? Yes, I have always known. It is what has kept me alive all these years." He said sincerely.

"You want me to pity you?"

"I want your love, not pity."

"I know that is not what you want. What have you come here for? I know that it is a new moon tonight. Is that what you wish?" She glared daggers into him. "You can't trick me into a bed again."

"Oh, Christine. I think six years have affected your memory. You wished, no longed, no begged to be in my bed. In a way, you longed for my child."

He circled her like a vulture around the hotel room.

"You've done a very good job raising him these six years." He whispered affectionately. "I thank you from the bottom of my black heart."

"You are right about that: your heart is a cold, empty stone." Christine was either about to cry or about to scream. "You have no idea what I have been put through these last six years."

"You act as if Gustave was the worse thing that ever happened to you."

"You were the worse thing that happened to me, not Gustave."

The Phantom momentarily stopped. That cut him to the core.

"Well, don't worry, your suffering is about to be put to an end."

"...what...what do you mean? What are you saying...?"

"You must understand, I did father him."

"What...what do you mean..."

The phantom gave longingful glance at the bedroom where Gustave laid sleeping. Christine's face turned from anger to horror.

"No...no..." She said crying in angst. "You don't mean...you can't!"

"I can and I should and I will." He said coldly, "as his father, I have rights to him."

"You...you...he isn't yours. You don't own him. If you take him I'll...I'll..." She said furious yet frightened.

"You will what, my Christine? He belongs to me in more ways than one." The phantom said fiercely, "you are mine, Christine, you belong to me and so does your little progeny. You gave your body to me. You belong to me because you gave your heart, mind, soul and body to me. But I gave it back to you. Now all I ask in return is a few years with my child.."

"...so what do you want with my child?"

"He is my son, Christine. You have enjoyed his company for the past six years, it is now time for his true father to take care of him."

"You...you can't possibly want that. All you do his hurt people...for pleasure! You don't want Gustave, you want me...you want me to feel guilty that you never knew your son so that I will stay with you so you may know him but really you just want my body again...or maybe you want to punish me for choosing Raoul by taking the only human I truly love...you...you are a monster."

"Am I truly a monster? You are the one keeping me, a father, away from a boy he created but has never seen or spoken to? How would you feel if you had never known your father?"

"I...I..." He could tell he hit a nerve there, bringing up her dead father, but she tried her best to hide it "You can't guilt me. You left me...and him."

"To give you and my precious child a better life. I can now provide for my child and I intend to do so. He is staying with me." He demanded.

"You...you can't take him. If you still love me you wouldn't."

"If you love me, you would understand my feelings, pathetic creature," the Phantom said growing angry, "don't try to tell me what I should do to show my love towards you. I gave you my world, my soul, my heart, my music and within a few hours you tossed it away. You came back and I forgave you without second thought because I loved you. And I still do, but now there is another in my heart. My son is the second human to ever invade my heart. I am not going to let him slip through my fingers when I am so close to him."

"How will you get him? I am always by his side."

"Well, from what I've heard, Gustave is a free spirit. He tends to wander. It's quite possible that he could get lost...for a very long time."

"You...you... You wouldn't." She said, flabbergasted "I'll...I'll call the police on you."

"When have the police ever concerned me."

"I'll...I'll tell Raoul that it was you. He'll get Gustave back."

"Oh yes, your knight in shining armor. You believe he can outwit me? Even you are not that blind. The only area of expertise that he beats me in is looks. Gustave is staying here. And you are leaving without him. There is nothing that you could say or offer to change my mind."

Christine was silent and in shock for the first few moment. He could see that she was trying to think her way out of this, but couldn't. Soon the anger and fear on her face was replaced despair and desperation.

"No," she began quiet but began to grow louder, "No,no no no No! You can't take him. I beg you! Have mercy on me!" She fell to the floor, sobbing and heaving as if she were dying, "don't take him! I know he's yours but...I can't have him leave me...please I will give you anything! Please! Please!"

"What do you have to offer me. I have everything and you soon will have nothing." He said coldly, but his stone heart was trembling at her pleas.

"I...I will do anything...anything, just please," she heaved again, not being able to control her tears any longer. "Don't take him from me! He's my son! I love him more than you will ever know! Please don't take him away from me!"

"Your tears tire me, woman." He said coldly, but it was the biggest lie that had ever been said: her pleas were shaking the very foundation of his soul. "He is mine."

She grabbed his pant leg and looked up at him with her tear filled doe-like eyes.

"Take...take me..." She said, despairingly. "I won't be leaving for two weeks: you can have me until then. But let Gustave stay."

"I am surprised at you, Christine. I never thought of you as a mere prostitute. You were always so reserved and refine. Modest. With your singing talent and any other features that the angel's have blessed you with."

Christine could feel his eyes looking up and down her body, admiring how much they had changed and sent a shiver down her spine.

"As much as I would love to explore the changes in your body that have occurred over the last six years, I must decline your request. A night of pleasure is not worth a lifetime with my progeny."

"...how...how about a lifetime of pleasure." Christine choked the words out. "Take me in Gustave's place. Just let Gustave return with Raoul and you can have me. I...I will...I will do anything you ask: I'll even pretend to love you. I'll sing to you every waking moment and satisfy your every desire if that's what you wish: just let Gustave go."

"You would do that for him?"

She nodded, not being able to talk through tears.

"You must think myself a monster if you thought I would agree to that. I value you more than to just use you as a toy. That you are afraid of me so much that you would offer yourself to me in such a way. What do think I will do to him? Torture him? Drink his blood? Bring him to the brink of death and despair but never give him the final cut of a knife? I am not that monstrous. No deal."

"Please! Just take me!" She begged. "I can't have my child be with you!"

"You do realize that if you stay and do as you suggest that you would wind up having another child with me. Perhaps even more." The Phantom rather enjoyed that thought: the idea of him and Christine raising a family on his island, maybe even having a little daughter with her. "You would become pregnant fairly quickly, my Christine, by offering yourself to me in such a way. Even you must see that it is unpractical to save one child from my monstrous face but doom even more to the same fate by doing so. Are you still willing, my Christine?"

The Phantom picked Christine up off of the floor, thrust her back against his chest and began toying with her body.

"Are you ready to submit to me again?" The Phantom caressed her hips with one hand and abdomen with the other.

"Let go of me!" Christine struggled against his chest, longing to get out of his iron grip.

"You don't seem to eager about your plan now, my Christine." The phantom spun her body around, forcing her hips against his own. "It will be just like this every night if you stay in Gustave place. Doesn't that just make your heart flutter? Being so close to your lover?

He began to sing.

The effects were almost immediate. She curled into him, longing for his voice; longing for his touch. His voice called to her. It made her obey him: long for him.

"But of course," He said, stopping his siren song, "as much as I long for you, I'd rather have Gustave by my side than you in my lap."

The phantom abruptly let go of Christine and she fell to the floor. She clutched her stomach, a habit of hers when she is scared that she picked up when she was expecting Gustave. She glared up at him, furious at him.

"You're rather adorable when you are frightened Christine." The Phantom bent down and wrapped his arms around her.

Christine shuddered as the phantom began playing with her chocolate brown curls.

"My Christine."

She snapped.

She would not be his play thing.

She jabbed her elbow into his stomach and freed herself from his grip. Once she face him, she hit him hard across the face with the back of her hand, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

He stared at her in shock. He had never seen her act like this before.

"I do not belong to you." She said firmly, glaring daggers into him. "My son will never be by your side and neither will I. Hell would sooner freeze over."

He paused. Six years had truly changed her.

"You forget how cold I can be." He said, his voice cold as ice.

"Get out." She commanded. "Now."

"Mark my words, Christine." He practically sang, his voice eerie and menacing, like it belonged to a ghost, "By the end of the week, he will be mine."

And with a chilling laugh, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3: Don't Worry

Chapter 3: The Nightmare  
Raoul came home to find his wife half conscious and sobbing on the couch.  
"Darling?" Raoul questioned his wife, sitting down beside her and taking hold of her arm. "Are you alright?"  
Christine only noticed Raoul's presence when he spoke.  
"Oh." She slowly sat up to make room for Raoul to sit down beside her. "Yes darling. I'm just...feeling a bit tired from the trip, that's all. And...and I'm worried about the coming week."

"I'm so sorry."

Raoul gave her a warm hug, engulfing her in comfort. She buried her head in his shoulder.

"I'm just so worried about Gustave…"  
"Should I send for a doctor?" Raoul asked, checking her forehead. "It's not too late in the evening. I'm sure I could get one."  
"No dear, he's fine." She said, lying through her teeth. "We don't need a doctor on a simple matter."  
"How's Gustave feeling? I had to leave before he went to sleep. Was he alright?"  
"He's doing better." Christine's mind went to her poor sick child, "That boat did a number on him."  
"Poor thing," Raoul said concerned, looking at Gustave's bedroom. "He just got over that nasty flu before coming and then the fever on the boat..."  
Christine remained silent.  
Gustave was lucky to be alive. So was Christine. Her pregnancy with Gustave was anything but easy. Her small body could barely function during those 9 months. Gustave was too large for her teen aged body to handle. Her morning sickness lasted longer than it should have and her feet started swelling too soon. Most days, she just laid in bed not even bothering to dress for the day. Her labor was excruciating as well, lasting over 24 hours and nearly killing her. Gustave wasn't born healthy either. The doctors had told Raoul that Christine and the newborn were going to die.  
By some miracle, Christine made a full recovery. But, while Gustave lived, he had never truly been healthy.

Raoul vowed to never take them for granted after being so close to losing them.  
"Don't worry, Christine." Raoul took her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. "He will be alright. That little boy's a fighter. He never gives up."  
Much like another person Christine knew all too well.  
"I should have kept him home." Christine said. "It's was foolish to bring him with us."  
"We couldn't have done it to him." Raoul reasoned. "Leaving a young child alone for over a month? That almost counts as abandonment. And he can't bare be away from you for long. It's my fault anyways."  
"Raoul. It's not your fault we came."  
"It has to be my fault. My factories have been failing. I'm losing them left and right. I never thought that I would have to rely on my wife to help us get some money back."  
"I don't mind singing, Raoul."  
"Yes, you do. I know that every time you sing...you think about..."  
Silence.  
"Our host left these for us down in the lobby." Raoul pointed at 3 objects that had appeared on the kitchen table across the room.  
"Could you bring them over?"  
"Oh course, dear."  
Raoul brought the packages over.  
"To the Viscomte Raoul de Changy." Raoul read the tag as if it was a Christmas present, "To help with the stress of the next few days."  
Raoul unwrapped a bottle of red wine.  
"Wine. I guess that's practical." Raoul looked a bit disgusted at the gift, as if it offended him, "I don't really enjoy the taste of strong drinks. But it is a good year. I must thank our host once we meet him."  
"To Christine de Changy." Christine read the tag, much like her childish husband had done, "Something beautiful to match your angelic voice, a beauty that will not fade."  
Christine unwrapped a brochette in the shape of a red rose.  
"How beautiful, Christine." Raoul said, admiring the sparkling jewel. "It will look lovely with that mint green dress that you packed."  
"It is beautiful." Roses…it always had to be roses.  
"Should we open Gustave's?" Raoul asked, again childish, "For parental reasons of course. Although I am rather curious."  
Raoul picked up the last parcel  
"To Gustave de Changy." Raoul read aloud. "Remember angels are always watching and protecting you."  
The couple unwrapped it together. It was a wooden box and a necklace with a small rounded key on it.  
"How curious." Raoul said inquisitively. "What is it?"  
Christine took the key from Raoul. She felt around the edges of the box until she found a little slit in which she put the key into. She wound it up, hearing the gears in the box rotate and click together before releasing the key and letting it unwind. The music box began to hum a sweet and almost familiar melody. The top of the box opened up to reveal a little scene. An angel with brown hair and large white wings that fluttered to the beat of the song sitting amongst a bed of red, pink and white roses.  
"That is amazing." Raoul said, gingerly touching the head of the angel.  
"It is rather amazing."  
Christine knew exactly who sent these gifts and it definitely wasn't Hammerstein.  
"I believe it's best that you go to bed, Christine." Raoul said, standing up and putting the gifts back on the table. "You look like you are about to faint. You need to rest for tomorrow."  
"You're right." Christine didn't want to go to bed. She wanted to lay against her little son and husband and hold them close for as long as she could before the Phantom takes her and the child away from the daylight and into the cold unfeeling night.  
"Here."  
Raoul walked over to his wife and picked her up bridal style and carried her to their bedroom.  
"Rest, Little Lottie." Raoul cooed, "Get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow you have to work and as soon as the performance is done then we can go visit the park. Just the three of us. Hopeful Gustave will be up to it. Oh and I'm taking Gustave tomorrow so you can focus on your music. You won't have to worry about a thing."  
"Thank you, Raoul." Christine said, her eyes growing tired. "I love you."  
"I love you too, little Lottie." Raoul kissed her forehead, tenderly. "Don't worry. Everything will work out. I just know it. Don't worry."  
That night, Christine fell asleep her mind plagued with endless worries about what would become of her young son if he entered the care of his true father.

…

She woke up with a man's strong arm around her. Every breath she took, every tiny movement she made, made the bed creak. Strong but gentle fingers were playing with her curls. It didn't even bother her that she was striped and only covered by a wool lined coat. She couldn't see a thing but she knew who she was beside.

"Angel..." She sighed, turning to face him. "Angel..."

She buried her face into his chest, moving the halfway opened dress shirt so that she could feel his skin against hers. She could feel his starlight eyes focus on her. His body curved around her, seeming to engulf her.

"You're awake." He commented, but to her it sounded like a confession of undying devotion.

"How long was I out?" She said with a slight giggle.

"About an hour." He said quietly. "Much shorter than I expected considering how tired you must be from our endeavor."

"I hardly would call it an endeavor." Christine lovingly whispered.

She let out a small groan.

"I love you." She whispered, planting kisses on his scared but firm skin.

"Say it again." He ordered, his hands trailing her back down to her hips.

"I love you." She repeated, her small fingers clenching the brim of his clothes.

He gave a content sigh and planted kisses on her forehead.

"Sing for me." She whispered timidly.

"Anything for you, my angel."

He began to sing. The world fell away. She could no long determine dreams from reality nor did she want to. All she could register was his strong, seductive voice.

When he stopped, she was beneath him, his hips pressed firmly against hers once more.

"Again..." She said, rather desperately, her hands going to the sides of his hips.

"Gladly," his whispered, "but on one condition."

"Anything for you, my angel."

"Sing." He commanded. "Sing for me."

Though out of breath, she sang with all her might. Notes were occasionally mingled with groans and pained, pleasure filled sighs, but it was like the singing of a goddess. It was for him. I was always for him.

…

Christine jolted awake from her nightmare, her hand flying to the place where the Phantom's lips had touched her neck. She felt nothing. No love bite. She looked to her left to find Raoul asleep, right where he was supposed to be. She quickly rushed to the bathroom and turned on the light. Looking herself in the mirror, she expected to see dozens of bruises and love bite covering the length of her body just like how she woke that night over 6 years ago. But she found nothing. Her skill was as pale and smooth as a china doll's, no marks of any kind.

It had just been a nightmare, although it felt so real.

Christine crawled back into bed, clinging to Raoul's arm for comfort, but she did not sleep. She tried to close her eyes, but the moment she did he heard his voice luring her to submit to the darkness once more.

And she feared that she would.

No matter how dark and twisted her Angel of Music had become, she was still drawn to him like a moth to a flame. If she drew any closer, she would get burned.


	4. Chapter 4: Silver

Chapter 4: Silver

Christine was unable to sleep more than a few hours so when her body woke up in a cold sweat around 5:00 she decided just to get up and start the day. She took a long time in the bath, washing away the dirt and grime of Manhattan that had encased her body. Christine enjoyed baths and the feeling of being clean that came after them. Of course, she never felt truly clean, not after she allowed the devil that is her angel take her body and do what he pleased with it. But baths helped her try to forget the enjoyment she felt during that experience: it seemed to wash away the pain for a short while which Christine was grateful for.  
After bathing, Christine put on the mint green dress that Raoul had mentioned the night before and added the brooch that she had received the previous night onto it's front. She was doing her hair when she heard a knock on the door. She heard the muffled scuffing of Raoul's feet as he went to fetch the door.  
When she came out of the bathroom, she found Raoul on the couch with a tea pot, cups and a leather folder on the coffee table.  
"I made your favorite: Caramel." Raoul said sweet as the tea in front of him.  
"Thank you darling."  
She took a seat beside him and graciously took the cup from him. She sipped her drink, which was a bit too sweet for her liking, as her husband began talking.  
"A delivery man just came with that folder." Raoul said, a sweet yet confused smile on his face, "It's another offer for your talents. The owner of Phantazma, that weird carnival thing on Coney Island wants you to perform on the closing night of his park which is at the end of this week. I know I shouldn't have but I sent a letter back saying that you would sing."  
Raoul looked at her as if he expected her to scream at him.  
She just continued to drink her tea.  
"It's paying twice as much as Hammerstein's offer which would help a lot with my debt. I know it will be a bit straining on your voice but it's still two weeks until the opera house opens. I was thinking you could do both."  
"I will, darling. Don't worry. I think it will be great to sing a bit sooner." Christine had a feeling she knew who her new boss was but she was forbidden to tell Raoul anything. "When does rehearsal start?"  
"Today I believe. Around 10:00."  
"What time is it now?"  
"7:00. I was thinking we wake Gustave up around 8:30 and then go eat breakfast at a cafe together as a family around 9:00. Then head off to the island where you can rehearse. I'll watch Gustave. Maybe go around the park a bit. I won't push him too hard, I promise. We'll probably spend most of the day in shops or in the shade."  
"Promise if he gets too tired that you will take him back to the hotel?"  
"I hope it doesn't come to that. I don't want to leave my wife alone on an island."  
"Don't worry about me. I will be alright."  
Christine soon had to get ready for the day. She finished her hair and put on some light makeup that highlighted her large chocolate eyes and matched perfectly with her bronze hair. She finished her looks quickly and then went back to Raoul, wanting to spend every last waking moment with him.  
But as soon as she exited the bathroom Raoul entered to clean himself as well. Raoul took a little shorter than Christine in getting ready but only left a brief time for conversation.  
The two talk a bit about normal things couples talk about: well being of children (well child in this couples case), politics and money. Soon 8:30 rolled around and it was time to wake Gustave.  
Quietly floating to the child's room in the hotel suite, Christine was worried about what she would find. Getting Gustave out of bed was always a hassle because he was not used to getting up. Spending most of his time in bed or curled up asleep on his mother's lap, he was not used to being awake. Or day light for that matter.  
Christine always feared when Gustave fell asleep he would never wake up.  
'It's your own fault.' She reminded herself as she opened the door and entered the dark room, 'you were a young girl and you slept with a deformed old man. Gustave is a result of that. He was destined to have problems and it's your own fault.'  
Christine didn't turn on the light, because it would hurt Gustave's eyes, and just sat beside his bed and began humming. As soon as her voice began playing a familiar melody, Gustave began stirring and his eyes opened a fraction of the way.  
Christine sighed in relief and began talking to him softly.  
"Good morning, little ange."  
"Good morning mom." Gustave said rubbing his eyes, still laying down.  
"Darling." Christine cooed the child. "It's time to get up now. We are going to breakfast."  
Gustave gave a cough, covering his mouth with his arm, before attempting to get up. With little assistance he was able to stand and walk to the edge of the room, staying in the shadows, his head turned away from the light.  
"Come on darling." Christine gave the child her hand. "I have to wash you and then you have to get dressed and then we can go get breakfast."  
Christine hated seeing the reaction on Gustave when the light fell on his face. His hand went to his eyes and he began rubbing them. When he tried to see, he had to squint.  
Christine quickly bathed him and got him dressed in a blue striped shirt and light brown pants with black shoes.  
His eyes had finally adjusted after all of that. Although, Christine could tell it was still bothering him.  
The two came out of the bathroom to find Raoul dressed and ready to go.  
"There's Gustave." Raoul said affectionately. "How did you sleep?"  
"Fine. I guess." Gustave spoke quietly. "I had a nightmare."  
"Oh darling. Why didn't you tell me?" Christine asked, wondering why he hadn't brought this up before.  
"I couldn't get out of bed." Gustave looked embarrassed. "And I didn't want to bother you."  
"You could never bother us, Gustave." Raoul chimed in, "We love you. We will always be there for you. You know that."  
Gustave looked down, unable to look Raoul in the eyes.  
"I know." The child whispered.  
"Oh. Our host got you this, Gustave."  
Raoul sprinted over to the kitchen table to pick up the music box which he then wound up and put on the coffee table, directly in front of Gustave. The little box opened to reveal the scene of the angel in the rose garden while playing a haunting melody.  
"It's beautiful." Was all that Gustave said, but the rare smile on his face meant more than his words.  
"Well I think it's time for breakfast." Raoul said.  
Christine couldn't agree more. Nothing could help her more than a pastry covered in chocolate at the moment.  
The young family made there way out of the hotel and into the streets of Manhattan. Raoul picked a nice looking café and they took a booth inside.  
Christine wasn't able to read or speak English and Gustave couldn't even read French so Raoul had to order for them in his fluent English. Christine hoped the language barriers wouldn't be such a big problem throughout the trip but then she realized that there was probably bigger things to worry about that being able to communicate with Americans. One of those this was what was to become of Gustave when the phantom takes him.  
The family ate their pastries as they talked about what the day would come. Raoul found himself repeating things and desperately trying to start a conversation with Gustave. As always, Gustave wouldn't look Raoul in the eyes when he responded with his brief words.  
Soon, the family finished their meal and they headed toward the island. The faerie ride over to the island took a bit longer than expected, mostly because the ride made both Christine and Gustave sick to their stomach's. The island couldn't arrive soon enough.  
Eventually they docked and they made their way over to the theater.  
They were met at the door by a man who surprisingly spoke fluent French.  
"Good day, Mr. And Mrs. De Changy. I am Nadir." Nadir told them, "I will be Mrs. de Changy's translator for the island and sort of a step in host. My boss sent me to make sure his singer is well aware of everything."  
"Oh thank you, M. Nadir." Christine said.  
"How long will rehearsal last?" Raoul asked the man.  
"Until 3:00."  
"Until then, my darling." Raoul kissed Christine's cheek. "Come on Gustave. We're going to go check out the island."  
Gustave, who had been carried in Christine's arms for most of the trip, clearly did not want to leave his mother.  
"Can mom come with us?"  
"I'm sorry, Gustave, but I have to work. Papa has to watch you for a few hours. Then we'll spend some time together. Don't worry darling."  
Christine kissed Gustave on the forehead before handing the child over to Raoul. Christine then entered the theater with Nadir where she was introduced to the American style of theater.  
Raoul tried to have a good day with Gustave. They explored the island a bit. Raoul found it a bit creepy for a child but Gustave found it all rather fascinating. Soon, after about an hour, Gustave grew tired so they stopped for lunch. Afterward the two sat on a bench and ate ice cream together. As expected, Gustave fell asleep quickly, his head laying on Raoul's lap. Raoul began feeling droopy and fell asleep as well.  
The phantom, of course, had been watching Raoul and the child for quite some time, finding it rather amusing that Raoul had accidentally took Gustave to one of Meg's shows. Seeing that this area of the park was secluded (it being near the unfinished part of the park), the Phantom walked over to the unconscious two and gently picked up Gustave, taking him into his arms.  
He then walked a little ways away into the shade of a few large trees, hidden from the world by the one green patch on the island.  
"So you're my little heir." The phantom smiled looking at the little child that had so many of his own traits.  
He was a beauty, even in sickness. He had curly, black hair (but Christine always called it dark brown). His face and body was that of Christine's when: small, plump and delicate. He suspected that Gustave would have had rosy cheeks and lighter hair if he had been healthy and in the sun light more often. But alas, the child was confined to a dark room. Under his eyes were large dark marks which clashed against his unnatural sickly pale skin. While his body looked plump and healthy, his muscles were weak and underused. And the most horrifying part about him, the part that marks his heritage: a tiny deformity, unnoticeable to anyone not looking for it, right above his right ear. The small defect was covered by his hair and most likely, Raoul wasn't even aware of it's existence. But Christine definitely knew it was there and it was a constantly reminder of who Gustave was.  
"You are a beauty." The phantom cooed the child, feeling happier than he had been in years. "My little Gustave. You are my most precious creation. I love you more than anything else I have crafted: more than this island, more than my music, more than Christine's golden voice. You are worth more than any of those."  
For a brief moment, the phantom was content. He felt that if he never saw his child again, he would still die with a smile on his face because he was able to hold his little child. He was second guessing his deal with Christine.  
He shook his head. No. He wanted to raise his child.  
The child begin to stir, feeling foreign arms embracing him.  
There was one thing the phantom had yet to learn about Gustave: his eye color. He let the child wake up: let him open his eyes like a newborn seeing his parent for the first time.  
The phantom saw large, childlike eyes. Christine's eyes. But the color, the bright stormy silver, was that of his father's.  
The child's eyes quickly drooped and closed: the child fell asleep, snuggling into his true father's black coat that was ever so alluring to him. The darkness seemed to call and calm the child.  
"I will never harm you, little creature. My little fawn." The phantom never thought of young children cute except for Christine of course: there was now another exception to that rule. "I will protect you and your mother. We will live together on my island, away from the world that mocks us both. Away from the light that blinds our eyes. We'll both fall asleep safely in Christine's embrace: in the arms of the only woman that could ever love us."  
The child, of course, heard none of this. But the phantom didn't particularly care.  
The phantom gently kissed Gustave's forehead which was way warmer than it should have been. That idiot Raoul had pushed this child too hard. The child should have been in bed, recovering, not being dragged around a scorching hot park in the heat of the summer sun by a boy who had yet to grow up even though he was 26.  
The phantom knew that he had been with Gustave too long and soon that boy would wake up to find Christine's child long gone.  
Idiot.  
Regretfully, the phantom waited until the area was vacant and placed his precious child back on the bench in the position he had taken him in.  
Raoul took a few minutes to wake up which gave the phantom plenty of time to regret a lot of things like putting Gustave back on the bench and letting this fool marry Christine and not kidnapping Christine a long time ago to be his bride to name a few. So many regrets fueled by just watching the oblivious boy.  
Eventually, Raoul woke up to find Gustave exactly where he had left him and thought nothing about it. Raoul didn't seem to notice that Gustave now vaguely smelled of ink and cologne.  
"I guess we both took a little nap, huh Gustave." Raoul gently shook Gustave awake and the phantom felt his anger rise.  
"I guess…" Gustave rubbed his eyes. "I had a weird dream...it was weird...but still warm and pleasant."  
"Dreams are often like that Gustave. Our minds do crazy things when there asleep." Raoul said, "Now let's see the time… oh my it's past three. Christine will be worried if we don't get back soon. Let's go Gustave."  
The phantom watched the two return to the theater and find Christine. The young mother embraced her family and phantom jealousy wished his was in Raoul's shoes being smothered with Christine's gentle lips. He reminded himself that his wish would soon come true. Christine would be his and Gustave would be under his care. He couldn't wait until Christine would be his bride.  
As Christine embraced her young son, a strong and eerily familiar scent. She herself had smelled like once and near the smell all too well. The smell on Gustave was faint, no where near the stench that encased Christine's body those 6 years ago, but there was enough to notice.  
The Phantom had finally met his child after 6 years of waiting.  
The thought almost made Christine pity the poor man.  
Almost.


	5. Chapter 5: safety

Chapter 5: Worthy

Christine was so happy to see her family at the end of the rehearsal. She had did minimal singing throughout the practice. She was immediately sent to the costume designer, an energetic man (with only one eye: the other was covered under a silver eye patch) who spoke so fast that it took Nadir a long time to translate all that he said into French. The designer had a previously designed dress for her but once seeing Christine, he through out those plans and created a sketch something completely new. Christine couldn't understand a word of what he scribbled down as he wrote himself notes, but looking at the dress he was designing took her breath away. She had never seen such a beautiful dress: ruffled layers of blue and gold, long silk blue gloves and a beautiful gold headpiece. Part of her couldn't wait until she would wear such a work of art, but then she remembered what was to come at the end of the week.

With the dressed designed, the man then took the next hour measuring every inch of her body and writing down extensive notes with each new measurement added. It took quite a while, but Christine couldn't complain. She found it rather enjoyable to watch the man do his job with such extensive passion. If only she could face her singing with such gusto.

But of course, being by her family (no matter how fleeting it might be) was heaven to her.

Christine picked up Gustave and held the child close. To her surprise, the child's head was feverishly warm.

"Raoul. Gustave's head is really warm. Did you do anything to hard today?"

"No. We just wandered the park. Ate some lunch. Ice cream."

"Gustave needs to go back to the hotel."

Raoul sighed.

"Ok. Hopefully he'll feel better tomorrow."

The family left the theater unaware of the angel that was watching from above.

The rest of the day was spent inside the hotel room. The young family played games and cards for a few hours. Christine made dinner that night which was beef stew, Gustave's favorite, which all of the family ate quickly. For dessert, Christine made hot chocolate and blueberry danishes which was Raoul's favorite. While Gustave did enjoy the blueberry danish, Christine knew that his favorite was cherry. Especially near ripe cherries being used in the pastry.

Night time fell quickly and Gustave had to go to bed.

"Good night, Gustave." Christine kissed the young boy's forehead gently, "I love you."

"I love you too, mom." Gustave's tired eyes were barely able to stay open.

"Tomorrow, we will visit the park together. Only if you are up to it. Ok darling?"

"Ok mom. Papa and I saw a lot of the park today...It was so cool…You should see it"

"We will darling. Is there anything you want to do at the park besides sightseeing?"

"Hm...the merry-go-round sounds fun. I would love to ride it."

"I promise you that you will ride it before the week is done." I want you to enjoy your last days of freedom my little child, Christine thought, I will do anything to keep you in the sun for as long as you can. "You will have a wonderful time here. I promise."

"Are you going to have a wonderful time too?"

The question left Christine speechless. Her life revolved around making Raoul and Gustave happy. While she wasn't living in strife, her focus was always on making it up to Raoul for cheating on him the best that she could. Or trying to make sure Gustave has a happy childhood even through his illnesses. Her mind was far from thinking about her own happiness. She remembered the dreams she had dreamed when she first learned she was pregnant. She wanted her angel to come and steal her away to be his bride. They would live in Sweden, in a cottage by the sea much like how she grew up. Everyday would be full of music and every night full of passion. They would travel. She would have followed anywhere her angel would led her without a second thought.

That it what she wanted back then. It was hard for her to even remember the time when she was that selfish. Gustave couldn't possibly be happy with that life. So much uncertainty and secrecy could not be healthy. And poor Raoul. He did nothing wrong. But Christine couldn't deny that her heart and body belonged to her angel and not him. But for Gustave sake, Christine married Raoul. It was almost a blessing the Phantom left her alone in that bed the morning of her wedding: it forced her to make the right decision for her child. Their child.

"Mama? Are you alright?"

"Oh yes. Yes darling. I was just thinking."

"You will have fun though, right?"

"Of course darling. I always have a wonderful time around you. I love you."

"I love you too mama…"

Christine kissed his forehead

"Mama, can you read to me." Gustave asked, curling up in her lap.

"Of course." Christine smiled.

She reached to the small night stand and grabbed the paperback book: The Wizard of Oz. She opened to where Gustave had marked his place and began reading it allowed. Gustave fell asleep curled up in her lap. She kissed him one last time before grabbing the book (knowing he would be tempted to read it once she left) and leaving the room.

Christine then dressed herself in a white nightgown and robe. It felt so wonderful being free of the corset that usually was tightened around her waist. Corsets used to not bother her as much. She used to rather enjoy them. But those were the days where her bust and hips were smaller than what they were now. It was awfully painful now with a lot more of her to constrain than there was before. But it was improper to not wear one at her age of 22.

Her angel hated seeing her wear a corset back at the opera house.

She could finally see why.

When she exited the room, she found Raoul sitting out the couch, looking glum.

"What's wrong darling?"

"Gustave...Sometimes I feel that...that he wants nothing to do with me." Raoul stared at the floor, "He's such a peculiar child...he was obsessed with all the creepy parts in the park...is that normal for a 5 year old?"

"Not every 5 year old is the same, darling." Christine sat down beside Raoul and he took her hand, "Gustave just needs a bit more time with you."

"He loves you way more that he loves me." Raoul pointed out.

"I'm sure that's…"

"Don't try to deny it." Raoul said, a bit agitated. "You two have this connection that I will never understand."

For a moment, Christine thought that Raoul was talking about someone other than Gustave.

"It's only natural for a son to feel close to his mother, Raoul." Christine pointed out, "You said yourself that you got along better with your mother than you did with your father. Gustave is the same way."

"I don't know what I am doing wrong." Raoul said, despairingly, "I am trying to do everything my mother did to me in hopes that we will bond. But he is constantly wanting to be by you. You are perfect and I understand why he wants to be by you but I want a close relationship with him. I want what you two have. I love Gustave so much, but sometimes I believe he is terrified of me. And I'm not sure why."

"Raoul." Christine tried to weave her way out of this one, "Children are naturally drawn to their mothers when they are young. Its instinct. I know that he will grow closer to you as he grows older."

"You should go to bed, darling." Raoul said, standing up, "You need to rest for tomorrow. I will drop you off on the island and then come back and watch Gustave. He needs to sleep tomorrow. Then we'll meet you back at the island at 3:00."

"Ok darling."

Raoul kissed her cheek and then she went into their room to go to sleep.

Raoul took a little bit longer to go to bed, his mind troubled with thoughts of Gustave and his wife. Thinking that he wasn't good enough for them.


	6. Chapter 6:Club, Spade, Heart, Diamond

Chapter 6: Human

The Phantom was wide awake at 3 in the morning. This was not unusual for him. He found sleep pointless and a waste of time. Even when he and Christine had 'shared a bed', he had not fallen asleep beside her. As soon as she passed out from exhaustion, he simply got out of the bed, dressed himself and laid back down beside her and entertained himself by listening to her steady breathing and the faint sound of her heart beat. So it was no surprise that the Phantom would be awake at this particular moment.

He was at his desk, neck deep in papers. His machines that he had been working on just earlier that day had been pushed to the side, forgotten. His mind was focused on the drawing he was working on.

"Oh my little boy..." He found himself talking to himself. "You are so beautiful...just like your mother."

He looked at his most recent charcoal drawing: a picture of his new found son. Across his desk, most of the papers were drawings of his young child. He couldn't stop thinking about him and he had no intention of trying.

"Um Mr. Erik?" Meg timidly spoke.

Erik let out a groan.

"My mom was just wondering if you would go over the budget for the last performance." Meg said, speaking as timidly as a frightened mouse. "She's tried talking to you about it…"

"I will tell you what I have told her countless time." The Phantom turned, his eyes narrowing and his voice nearly a growl. "I don't care what she does. She knows my answer. I am not raising the budget."

She stood there frozen.

"Get out!" He shouted, throwing the fountain pen in his hand to the floor.

She scampered away.

With the pest now gone, he returned to his work.

"Gustave…" He whispered the name like a lullaby. "Gustave…"

"Must you always lose your temper with my daughter?" Giry came in, scolding him.

"Must you always interrupt me when I'm working?" The Phantom remarked coldly.

"There still was no need to yell at her." Giry said, her lips pursed together as if she was eating something sour.

"There was also no need to send her up here in the first place." The Phantom stood up, facing the woman who was over a head shorter than himself. "You knew perfectly well what my answer was and yet you continue to pester me. Now if you would please leave me be, I have more important work to attend to than your petty show. And send Darius up here: I need the errand boy to do somethings for me."

Giry gave him a cold glare.

"I would have thought that after all we have sacrificed for you," Giry said just as coldly as he did, "you would be more civilized."

And she was gone.

Sacrificed, he mused, what did she sacrifice. This was her idea: using his talents to earn money. He wanted none of this. He only wanted one little thing...

"Soon, my little darling..." He spoke to the charcoal drawing as his finger stroked the almost too realistic curly, black hair. "Soon you shall live with me... I will marry your mother. Then I will steal you two away to live with me, hidden beneath the world. Away from that garish light. You are my heir and I will always protect you...keep you close. You and your mother will be mine and mine alone."

"Talking to yourself again, are we?"

"Daroga. You know better than to interrupt me while I'm working."

The tenderness in the Phantom's speech had disappeared and was replaced with a monotone voice of utter annoyance.

"We both know that you were not working. What you were doing, I don't know, but I know that it was probably something demented."

"I would never do anything of the sort."

Nadir was beside the phantom's desk now, staring down at what the phantom described as 'work'.

"That boy. The Viscomte's and Christine's child." The Persian said, holding up one of the newly made drawings. "Please tell me you haven't gotten obsessed with another young child."

"Christine wasn't that young when I fell in love with her."

"She moved to the opera house when she was 7!"

"I didn't want her as my bride until much later."

"13. She was 13 when I first saw you draw her obsessively. But it seems that you have started worshiping another."

"Christine is still the love of my life, Daroga. I am not that disgusting. I know what you were thinking and I am disgusted that you would think of me that way. Christine made a beautiful child. It is part of her so I must love it."

"I've just never seen you take interest in someone other than Christine. I have to wonder what it means."

"He is the child of the woman that I love. He is as beautiful as the angel who created him. He has such beautiful grey eyes..."

With the slip of the Phantom's tongue, Nadir suddenly realized why the Phantom was so fascinated with the young de Changy...if you could call him a de Changy.

"He's yours..." Nadir said, nearly falling back into a chair. "Dear lord, he's your son!"

"As a matter of fact, he is. Took you long enough."

"How is he...when?" Another disturbing thought came to his mind. "You didn't...didn't..."

"If you are going to say 'force myself upon her in order to get pleasure and produce an heir' I can assure you that is not the case."

"There's no...no way Christine. ..Christine would."

"Make love to the devil? She did. You can see the results yourself."

"By Allah..."

"She came to me. I was hidden in that hideout of mine by the cemetery. That little shack that looks abandoned."

"And you...you seduced her?"

"Quite the opposite. She showed up in a robe and her undergarments in the dead of night: a bit after midnight. I tried to keep my distance from her, fearing rejection. But Christine is quite the little seductress when she wants to be. She first touched my hand with her own. Then she made her way onto my lap. Her bust was rather small but her hips and thighs were plump..."

"I don't need to know the anatomy of your lover." Nadir pointed out, "nor do I wish to know the details of how your child was created."

The Phantom had momentarily forgotten that he was talking to the Daroga. His mind was focused on that long ago night where Christine had begged him to make her feel like a woman and not a girl.

"You know perfectly well what has to happen for me to produce an heir." The phantom said, a bit proudly. "And I would like to believe I behaved like a gentlemen that night."

"Yes because gentlemen have love affairs in an abandoned house on a crusty, old bed and sheets."

"There was no blanket on the bed actually. It was just my cloak that covered are love making. When I left her that morning, I had leave behind my cloak as well. I wasn't going to leave my lover cold."

"You...you left her?" Nadir stammered.

"Well considering that she isn't wearing my ring and I don't have little Gustave by my side calling me 'papa', I think it's rather obvious that I left her."

"But why? You loved her."

"I love her, Daroga . Love, not loved. Present tense." The Phantom corrected him, "having Christine be my bride and raising a family with her is still on my list of things to do."

"Then why did you leave her?"

The Phantom remained silent, not wishing to reveal the answer.

"Why did you leave her?" Nadir asked again.

Silence.

"Why did you leave her?"

The Phantom's hand trailed to the right side of his face. Nadir understood that gesture.

"You were ashamed of yourself. Am I right?"

The Phantom stared at the floor but Nadir took this as a 'yes'.

"I couldn't even bare to look her in the eyes." The Phantom finally revealed. "What if she saw me and screamed? What if she was horrified with the fact that she let me take her body to satisfy my desires?"

"And what if she still loved you?" Nadir pointed out. "What if she enjoyed your night together? What if she finally agreed to become your bride?"

"Then she would have lived a life of misery. These last 6 years have been a living hell. I can't imagine how I would feel if Christine had to go through what I went through in America at the start. And then there is the matter of the child that she would no doubt conceive..."

"She would probably end up pregnant with quite a few little ones, most of them not intentional. Still...it's rather hard imagining you as a father."

"You know perfectly well that I am good with children. But trying to raise a family at the time I got to America would practically be a death sentence for her. Now that I'm wealthy and can provide for her and Gustave...but not then."

"So I assume your plan involves making Christine remember how much she loves in in hopes that she will leave her respectful husband so that she can marry you and create all those kids that you want?"

Once more, the thought of a little girl with jet black curls crossed his mind. While he would gladly set the world ablaze for Gustave, he couldn't deny that he truly wanted a daughter. His own little Christine that he created. A lovely little lady that would inherit her mother's beauty and voice but his genius and power.

What a beautiful thought.

"You threatened her, didn't you." The Persian said, breaking the Phantom away from his simple but sweet thought.

"I didn't threaten anyone actually. I just told her that I would like my son for the next 5 or so years. He's my son and I have some rights to him, don't you agree?"

"Considering you left him behind and are unable to take care of yourself properly, I would say that you don't."

"I am insulted by that, Daroga. I have always been on my own and been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember."

"I said 'properly.' You do have a habit of never sleeping. Or never eating."

"Unimportant to me. But of course I wouldn't let my son starve or be deprived of sleep. He would be safe under my wing. Probably safer than with that boyish Viscomte. My child is rather weak and sickly and that stupid boy was having him walk around a park in the blistering summer heat. That idiotic boy..."

"Sickly? Weak?" Nadir questioned, "Doesn't sound like any child of yours. You always had excellent health, somehow..."

"Yes. He is rather ill at the moment. Apparently he had not been feeling well before coming to America and the boat ride sure didn't help matters. And as for my health, I've dealt with excruciating pain all of my life. The flu is hardly something that would keep me down. My child on the other hand…"

"How long have you known? About the child I mean."

"Ever since he was born. There was a picture of them in the paper when he was born. The dates didn't match up: he was born 7 months after their wedding. The only way for him to be alive was to have been my son. And even then, he had been born a month too soon..."

"Do you feel any remorse for leaving Christine the way that you did?"

For the second time that night, the Phantom did not wish to answer that question. He had spent most of his life appearing intimidating around members of society so that they would not pester him. Revealing his true feelings would be...weak.

"Well how would you want me to feel about the situation? The love of my life had my child. I'm elated." He said monotone and unfeeling, as if he was commenting on the weather.

"You can not be so heartless to not feel any remorse about the situation. Christine was...about 16 when you left her alone. You have to feel something."

"Nothing. I have no remorse. None whatsoever. I am a monster. I shouldn't feel the need to see my child's first steps. Or hear his first words." The Phantom's hidden emotions were slowly being revealed, his mind plagued with guilt and sorrow, "Or watch his face light up as he opens his presents on Christmas morning."

Oh his son would have been spoiled. He would have wanted for nothing. Any little desire, he would have gladly fulfilled.

"Dry his tears when nightmares plague his mind. Sooth him to sleep every night to soft lullabies sung by a loving mother and father. See him play in the snow come winter and take him the lake during the summer."

Oh the joy he would have felt-to watch his most precious creation play in the snow on a bitter cold day or swim in the lake in the blistering heat. And then after a long day, to come into their home and be embraced by his little Christine and then the three of them creating music together.

"I don't regret missing any of it." The Persian knew that the Phantom was lying now. "I don't regret not being there for Gustave's first birthday. I don't regret leaving him behind in the care of a man who couldn't possibly love him as much as I do. I don't regret not being able to hold Christine's hand as she is in labor, trying her hardest to give me a child."

He was sobbing now, unable to control it any longer. The Persian had never seen the man cry before and was stunned by how the sorrow filled tears glittered on his already mesmerizing silver eyes.

"I don't regret...leaving… the love of my life...alone...with my son...after she had...given me...more joy than I had ever known, after...treating me like a man...instead of a monster."

Nadir was silent as he watched the strongest man he knew, weep, not at the cruelties had been inflicted with in his life, but at his own heinous actions.

"You...you must feel…"

"Horrid! Monstrous! The devil himself would be ashamed of what I have done! How would you feel? I ask you? How would you feel if you were in my shoes?" The Phantom's tears were now full of rage and self-loathing than just sorrow. "My little angel...my darling Christine. I left her! Alone and pregnant with my own flesh and blood! Oh she must have felt like a prostitute, waking up that morning to find the bed empty. But I had no choice! If I had stayed she would have lived a life of horror and misery. But the other option wasn't glamorous either! Marry the Viscomte that she clearly did not passionately love because her child needed financial support and she couldn't do it by herself. She was but a child herself when she had Gustave. I practically made love to a child...she was only 16...and for the longest time, I saw nothing wrong with that. I don't regret that night, as horrid as it sounds to say that. I could have died a happy man that night."

"Because you bedded her?"

"No...no that's not the reason. It was what she said. How she treated me." He said, his hand over his heart, "She didn't treat me like I was a monster. But she didn't treat me like an angel either. She treated me like a normal man. That was my happiest moment. The events after were our passions combining together. It was the moments before that made my life worth it."

"What did she do to make you feel like a normal man."

"We talked. Talked like a normal couple would. I told her of my dreams and she said hers. Both were focused on music. I could have listened to her talk about what she wished for her future until the world ended. She just wanted to sing. She didn't want to be lavished in jewels or invited to grand balls. She just wanted music. It was rather fortunate really, because that was all I could offer her. But she deserves diamonds and riches and beauty. She's an angel. Her and the young boy. I want to give them everything."

"You wish to pay recompense for your actions towards her by forcing her child to live with you?"

"She agreed to be mine once before. She will agree again. I need her. I need my child, Nadir. You, of all people, must understand that. I abandoned the child and his mother once before and I shall not make that mistake again."

"But what if your making a bigger mistake."

The door opened once more and the Phantom instantly regained his composure.

"Darius." The Phantom spoke as if the emotional display that had just happened had never occurred. "Finally, the only person I actually invited up here."

The Phantom shot a tired and irritated look to the Persian who just rolled his eyes.

"Whatcha need me to do?" Darius asked, politely but not patronizingly.

"To get some English lesson." The Phantom mumbled, picking up a folder on his desk. "I need you to take this to the court house."

"Not sure if they're open at 3 in the morning."

"Be there when it opens."

"Alrighty."

He turned his heals and left the office.

"What was in that folder?" Nadir asked, leaning against Erik's desk and admiring the portraits: they were extremely beautiful. While the young boy mostly looked like Christine, he could see little flecks of Erik in his features.

"My will and testament. It needed a few more adjustments."


	7. Chapter 7: Dear Old Friends

Chapter 7: Dear Old Friends

Christine gave a gasp as the corset was tightened around her.

"My apologies, Madame de Changy." the french costume designer said. "I promise you, it won't go any tighter."

"It's alright." Christine said politely. "You're just doing your job."

"Are you sure it's alright for me to be in here, Madame de Changy." Nadir said, his body turned and eyes on the floor.

"I used to dance ballet at the Paris Opera house." Christine said, admiring her half sewn dress, "I have worn much less than this for a much larger crowd. Besides, I wouldn't want you to get into trouble with your boss. He told you to watch me every moment while I'm on this island and we all know he is dead serious when it comes to these sort of things."

"You are correct in saying that, but I intend to only keep my eyes on the floor."

She gave a slight laugh. She rather enjoyed having the Persian man as a constant companion on the island. It didn't take her long to realize that this man must have been particularly close to the boss in order for him to trust him with her safety.

And then another man came into the room.

The blonde haired gentlemen stopped at stared at her, no doubt enamored by her. But he shielded his eyes with his hands and turned away from her.

"My humblest apologies, Madame de Changy." Darius said in French, a skill Erik had taught him. "I thought you were decent."

"No, no I am sorry monsieur. I thought for sure I locked that door..." she muttered to herself.

"Darius," Nadir said, "why are you here?"

"I wish to talk to Christine. I am Darius." He said, offering his hand to Christine." I am second in command of this park: the eyes and ears of my boss. What a beautiful dress."

"Thank you." She said giving it a twirl.

She was a vision of loveliness. Her blue dress, while only half complete, was flecked with gold made her look like a peacock with it's feathers ruffled out. The low neckline showed much of her breasts and the tightness of the top showed off her hips.

She felt so beautiful in it.

"Aren't you a little doll?" Darius said.

She gave him a puzzled look, not understanding the phrase even though he spoke in French.

"It just means you look pretty, little siren."

"Thank you monsieur but I hardly think I am a siren." Christine said, "Now what was it that you wanted to talk to me about, monsieur?"

"Please, call me Darius."

"Darius." Nadir interrupted. "What was the purpose of your visit?"

"I am here to discuss payment. My boss has agreed to 3000 dollars for your performance in his theater plus any expenses of travel, lodging or supplies will also be paid for so long as you hand me a receipt for any items that you buy. My boss seems to want to make sure you are well taken care of here in America."

"That is very kind of him." She forced the words out. "It is a lot of money."

"But it is worth it for your voice. I've heard you sing. Angels would be jealous of the beauty of your voice."

"Thank you. Is that all?"

"That is all. And if you ever need anything, locate me or Nadir. We are here to make your visit to America as comfortable as possible."

…

When 2:00 came, two old friends bumped into each other. Quiet literally.

"Oh I am so sorry dearie." Meg said to Christine.

" _Pardonne-moi_." Christine spoke in French.

"Christine? Is that you?" Meg spoke in French.

"Do I know you?" Christine asked.

"Its me! Meg!"

"Meg!"

The two girls embraced, their friendship not pulled apart by years or miles.

"It's so great to see you, Meg! I didn't know you worked here?"

"Yep! I'm the lead performer, honey! 5 shows daily with practices in between each one. Never a dull moment in theater."

"On that we both agree. So how has it been?"

"It was a rough start, but everything is perfect now! America has so many opportunities! The real question is what has happened to you."

Christine's eyes darkened, though her smile didn't fade.

"Everything's...perfect."

The girls jabbered away, wasting time and breath like all females do. The conversation ranged from talking about the gossip around the island and in Paris to which boys Meg found cute in the theater. It was just like old times...until.

"You're singing here?!" Meg shouted, aghast.

"Yes. This Saturday night."

"There must be some mistake. I was supposed to be performing a special show that night."

"Oh...I'm sorry Meg. But don't worry! I'm sure you'll get your time in the spotlight."

"Why-why are you singing again?" Meg asked, her concern beginning to show. "And more importantly, why did you stop in the first place?"

"It's-it's complicated…" Christine confessed. "But mostly it's because...well my son was born and I wanted to be there as he grew up."

"So it's true?" Meg said, her face lighting up. "You have a kid?"

"Yeah." Christine said nodding and smiling. "Yes. His name is Gustave, after my father. Oh I love him so much. I'm worried about him…"

"What's there to worry about?" Meg said, putting her hand comfortingly on Christine's shoulder.

"He's...he's always sick. And he's incredibly shy. Not to mention he always has a habit of running off to try to learn how to swim…"

It was at that moment when someone burst into the theater.

"This is a private practice, Mr!" the stage manager yelled at the intruder.

"I am sure you can make an exception to me because I need to see my wife immediately!"

"Raoul?" Christine said, looking for the man.

"Christine!" the strawberry blonde man came to his wife and embraced her. "I'm sorry but I must pull you away from your rehearsal."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Gustave! I don't know where he is!"


	8. Chapter 8: Beautiful

Chapter 8: Beautiful

Christine knew exactly where her son was. Well at least who he was with.

"I am so sorry, Christine." Raoul apologized for the hundredth time, "We were heading over here to pick you up from rehearsals. I turned my back for a fraction of a second and he was gone!"

"Who's missing?" Meg asked, confused.

"My...Our son. Gustave. He's about five years old." Christine said.

Christine's heart was racing. Any mother would panic if her child had gotten lost on Coney Island. Of course, Christine knew that he wasn't lost but rather spending time with his father. Oh how cruel fate was, making her fear the one that she knew, deep in her heart, was the one whom she loved the most. No, she reminded herself, there was no 'now' for the two of them. They were finished. Their story was done. Their book was closed. Christine pretended that it had a happy ending, like a fairy tale. But she knew that she was just kidding herself.

"Your son. I had no idea you had a child," Meg said, feeling the weight of all life moments she had missed in her best friend's life, "but I guess this isn't the best time to elaborate on it. I'll help you look for him. I know the park better than most."

"That would be wonderful, Meg." Christine said, "Just give me a few seconds. I need to talk to my translator."

Christine rushed over to Nadir, thinking on her feet, and began to rapidly yet quietly talk to him.

"Monsieur, I need your help." Christine whispered.

"Anything. I am here to help you, madame."

"My son is missing on the island."

"Gustave...by Allah if the boss knew,,,"

"I know where he is. Well at least who he is with. I know that this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to pretend to help my husband search for him but in reality I need you to keep him away from any place where...the boss... might be."

"Don't worry, Christine. I am well aware of your reasoning behind your strange request." Nadir said.

"You…you…" Christine was flabbergasted. "How do...you?"

"I am close friends with 'the boss' hence why he assigned me to watch over you." Nadir said. "While I don't know of his plans, I do know the rules and that secret you wish to keep hidden for his safety. Do not worry, madame. I won't tell a soul. I'll distract your husband."

Christine was both relieved and fearful to know that Nadir knew the parentage of Gustave. She hoped it wouldn't spread farther than what it already had spread too. She couldn't risk Raoul finding out, or worse, Gustave finding out.

The two walked over to Raoul and Meg. Raoul was in a nervous fit, like a child who didn't want to take a bath before going to bed but had to anyways.

"Nadir has agreed to help look for Gustave." Christine said.

"Hello, monsieur de Changy." Nadir said with a slight bow and a firm handshake.

"Hello, monsieur Nadir." Raoul said. "Thank you for helping us."

"I had a son too once," Nadir said, "I understand what it feels like to worry so dearly for a child in potential danger."

"We need to start looking, now." Meg said. "I'll go with Christine."

"Yes." Nadir said. "You two check the park while Raoul and I go to the front office to alert the island police."

"Sounds alright to me." Raoul said, quickly taking Christine's hand and placing a kiss on him. "I'm so sorry, darling. I will make it up to you."

"No more talk of this. We have to go."

The four exited the theater together but the pairs separated off once they saw daylight.

Darius, like a shadow, had been observing the scene quietly yet effectively. His instincts were telling him that their was more to this than simply a lost 5 year old. Something to do with Erik. So, being no fool, Darius followed Christine and Meg throughout the park: out of sight but close enough to hear them breathe.

…

"Who are you?" Gustave said, fearfully, being gently yet firmly led down a dark and winding staircase beneath the theater. "Where are you taking me?"

"I am Miss. Fleck." the dwarf woman said.

"Squelch." the bald muscle man spoke in a deep voice.

"Dr. Gangle." The 7 foot man in a red top hat said.

"But where are you taking me? I want to go to my mama."

"Don't worry, child. We are just doing our job. Our master wants to see you." Fleck said with voice that was both calming yet frightening at the same time. "No one will hurt you here. You are safe."

Gustave, being confused and young, did not understand that he was being kidnapped. His mother had always taught him to obey adults and so this situation was no different.

Soon, the four of them reached the bottom of the winding staircase. Gustave rather liked this place. The black curtains walls, the dim candlelight, the scarce yet elegant dark furniture: he found it all very beautiful.

"Hello there, little Viscomte." A voice said in french through the darkness.

Gustave looked around the room, his head facing toward where the noise came from.

"I'm over here, child." The deep, soothing and eerily familiar voice called from a different side of the room.

"I'm over here, little fawn." the voice came from a different part of the room that time.

And so it continued. The voice seemed to not like staying in one place and continued to change where it was with every new call. Gustave, laughing hysterically, desperately wanted to catch the man who's voice it belonged to, so as soon as he heard the voice talk, he would run in that direction. It was like a game.

"I'm over here, little cygnet."

"Now, I'm over here, little _ange_."

"I'm over here, little child."

"I'm here, Gustave."

Gustave heard the voice come from directly behind him. He felt a thin, bony hand touch his shoulder. He didn't flinch. Instead, and to the Phantom's complete confusion and surprise, he started laughing.

The Phantom gave a curious look at the giggling boy. That trick had caused countless of adults to scream in horror and believe that they were haunted by ghosts. But the boy...he was just laughing.

Gustave turned around to face the tower man. Despite everyone being tall in comparison to himself, Gustave could tell that this man, who ever he was, was taller than most men. He wore all black from his coat to his hair, except for the mask that covered the right side of his face which was white. In the darkness, it was hard to tell that the mask was there at all because it blended into his pasty, white skin. Everything from his coat to his gloves looked expensive and refine. Gustave was instantly curious.

"Hello, Gustave." The man cooed his name.

"Who are you?" Gustave asked, his curiosity overpowering manors.

"I am Erik, young Viscomte." The Phantom wished to tell him that he was his father, but he knew better. "I own the island. Your mother...works for me."

"Where am I? I want my mama."

"We are in my office." The Phantom said, taking the boy's hand, "Your mother and I are close friends and she has agreed to let me take you around the park for a little while. I have so many wonderful things to show you on my island that you probably haven't seen yet: jugglers, conjurers, exotic animals. Unless of course you'd rather go back to your...father and spend the day with him."

"No. I want to see everything." Gustave said quickly. "Just as long as mama knows I'm with you."

"Don't worry, she is well aware of where you are." The Phantom said, "You will be safe with me. I promise. Now."

The Phantom bent down and picked the boy off of the ground, taking him into his embrace. The Phantom savored this brief moment of joy.

"What would you like to see first?" The Phantom asked.

"Well...I want to know how you did that trick." Gustave began giggling again. "Moving your voice around."

The Phantom almost laughed as Gustave began to try to do it.

"I'm over here." Gustave called into the darkness, letting loose a few giggles that echoed around the walls. "I'm over here!"

"It's like this, little Viscomte." The Phantom's voice came from the other side of the room, but Gustave saw that his lips didn't even move.

"Whoa." Gustave exclaimed. "That's...that's...whoa"

"I'm a Ventriloquist." The Phantom explained. "I can project my voice anywhere."

"Can you teach me to be a vantrala...ventrula…"

"Ventriloquist." The Phantom said.

"Yeah a ven-tril-o-quist." Gustave slowly pronounced each syllable to ensure that he pronounced the word correctly. "Can I be one?"

"Of course, my boy." The Phantom said. "I can teach you anything you want to know."

The Phantom began walking towards the staircase, Gustave still cradled in his arms, when Gustave saw something that intrigued him.

"Is...is that a piano?" Gustave asked.

"Yes it is." The Phantom said, drawing close to the instrument. "Do you play?"

Gustave looked down, embarrassed.

"I've...I've never taken lessons." Gustave said as the Phantom placed him on the piano bench.

The Phantom sat down beside him. He gave Gustave a small smile before spreading his hands over the keys and quickly played up and down the piano in a majestic and powerful manor.

"Neither have I." The Phantom said, seeing Gustave's eyes wide and mouth drop open in amazement at his ability. "Why don't you try?"

"Um...ok."

Gustave's hands hesitantly went to the piano. He began playing a sweet melody. His right hand took the melody and his left hand played basic chords. The Phantom instantly recognized the song that he remembered all too well.

"That's 'Think of Me' from sung by Elisa in Act 3 of 'Hannibal'." The Phantom said, remembering hearing Christine singing that song that long ago night.

It wasn't the fondest of memories for the Phantom. It was bittersweet. Her voice was perfect and flawless. But he was unable to attend her first performance because that boy, Raoul, had stolen his box. He was forced to stay below in the catacombs, standing for hours, just listening to the production and unable to see his beloved student's first performance.

"Yes. I love that song. It's my parents favorite song." Gustave said, timidly. "Papa said that mama was singing that song when he realized that she was his old friend. That's why he loves it so much."

It took him 3 acts of an opera before recognizing Christine?! The Phantom was new to this information and couldn't help but laugh at the Viscomte's slow mind.

"What's so funny?" Gustave asked, hearing the Phantom's dry laughter.

"Nothing. Just…" The Phantom said, his eyes focused on Gustave's playing. "I was there when your mother sang that song. Your mother has an amazing voice."

"I know." Gustave proudly said. "She's been teaching me to sing too."

The song Gustave was playing changed but the Phantom instantly recognized it.

"That's-that's the vocal exercise I wrote for your mother." The Phantom said, watching the boy's nimble but little fingers go across the ivory keys.

"You wrote it?" Gustave asked. "Really? It's so beautiful."

"I wrote it for your mother."

The Phantom closed his eyes and imagined her divine voice singing that haunting melody. But then he heard a quiet, timid but equally as beautiful voice.

It appeared that Gustave also inherited his mother's voice along with her beauty and kindness. While obvious untrained and from a young child, it had so much potential. He felt as if he had been struck in the face.

"Sing that again." He commanded, not opening his eyes, desperate to hear the boy sing again.

He did as he was told, playing the melody and singing it louder.

"Sing…"

It was like he was being born again. His sweet angelic voice...he could see it now. The boy would be an amazing singer in his future. Or a composer. Or an artist. Anything the boy put his mind too...He had endless potential.

"It goes way too high…" Gustave said, stopping his vocals about halfway before they were complete.

"Sing!" The Phantom ordered, his temper flaring.

Frightened, he began singing again. To his surprise, he sang the notes that he had never attempted to hit before. It was extraordinary. He felt his heart begin to soar.

With the final high note completed, Gustave burst into laughter, once more catching the Phantom off guard.

"What's so funny?" The Phantom questioned, incredibly curious at the boy's behavior.

"It just is!" Gustave laughed once more.

"You're quite a giggly little thing, aren't you."

It wasn't really a question, but rather a statement. He certainly had never acted as such when he was young and Christine, while mostly happy, never just laughed without a reason. Why did the boy laugh at everything. It didn't make sense.

And yet, the Phantom loved hearing his laugh.

"Can you play something?" Gustave asked, removing his hands from the piano.

"Of course."

Something about Gustave leaning against his thigh while he played felt so right. Every so often, the Phantom would glance his way to see to his mesmerized, lit up face. Any sign of illness had vanished and was replaced by sickeningly sweet childish joy.

He could have gotten lost staring into those startling and stunning silver eyes.

He played a lullaby: one he was writing on the spot. It was peaceful but playful but dark all at once: much like the child sitting next to him. The Phantom watched as the song made the child grow tired, his little arms leaning onto his thigh.

This was the Phantom's cue to stop.

He abruptly stopped playing and stood up.

"You play...so amazing…" Gustave said, yawning as he rubbed his eyes.

"As do you." The Phantom spoke affectionately but rather sternly. "I would love to spend the entire day listening to you play, but we have a park to explore."

The Phantom offered his hand to him and Gustave gladly took it.

…

The last thing the Phantom had expected to hear was laughter in a house of horrors. Well maybe he did expect it, he himself finding amusement in other people's terror. But playful, childish laughter: no.

And yet as they wove their way through the rather bizarre and sometimes frightening island, Gustave couldn't stop himself from laughing.

He kept Gustave out of sight of the crowd by using the back passages on the park. He didn't want anyone to see him with the child...just yet. He had every intention of showing off Gustave, but now was not the time. By next summer, he would take Christine's arm, hold Gustave's hand and walk around the park like a normal family would.

He couldn't wait for that day.

"Whoa can we go in there?" Gustave pointed to a darkly lit black and red tent.

"That would be an Oddities museum." Erik warned. "It hold a bunch of pictures of people who were born...different. As well as why they were born that way."

"Are they alive?"

"Some of them."

"I wanna see."

"Gustave, it's frightening."

"I can handle it." Gustave pouted. "Please Mr. Erik?"

Erik tried his best to avoid looking at his face, knowing full well he would give into Gustave's pleas. Unfortunately, Erik glanced a look and saw those large silver eyes and he couldn't resist.

"Alright," Erik caved. "But you have to hold my hand and we leave the moment when you get frightened."

Erik was nervous entering the museum. He found everything in their bizarre, which is why it fascinated him. But he was unsure of how Gustave would react.

His fears quickly faded when Gustave happily dragged him to the first exhibit. It was just a bunch of pictures of showpieces from Barnum's original circus (Erik's main inspiration for his park: a sort of never ending fair) but Gustave couldn't tear his eyes away from them.

"That's General Tom Thumb." Erik said, pointing to the photo of the dwarf man. "He was quite the remarkable man. He joined Barnum's circus and became one of the most famous people in America and Europe. Queen Victoria even came to his shows. And Lincoln even attended his wedding."

"Who's Lincoln?"

"He was a president here."

"Huh?"

"He was a figurehead of this country. Not really a king though."

"Weird…Who are they?"

"They would be Chang and Eng bunker, more commonly known as the Siamese twins."

"Why are they attached together?"

"They were born like that. They were, quite literally, attached at the hip. Though they argued like an old married couple."

"Who's he?"

" **She** is Josephine Clofullia. Though most just call her the bearded lady."

"Whoa…"

The two continued through the walk through the exhibit, reaching a line of glass cages filled with different animals.

"Whoa a snake." Gustave pressed his face against the glass.

"Not just any snake." Erik said, on his knees to be at least near Gustave's height. "Look closely."

Gustave watched the snake in fascination, waiting for it's uniqueness to appear. The snake woke up and locked eyes with Gustave: all four of its eyes staring into his silver orbs.

"It has two heads!" Gustave laughed.

Erik, using his master key, unlocked the glass cage and put his hand in it. The snake, having done this several times before with Erik, slivering into his hand, fitting perfectly in his palm.

"Do you want to hold them?" Erik asked, both of them admiring the double headed snake weaving through his fingers. "They won't bite."

Gustave nodded excitedly and held out his hand.

"Careful, don't move too much."

Erik held his hand up to Gustave's outstretched hand, their fingers touching. Slowly, the twin headed snake slivered into Gustave's little hands. He didn't flinch or react at all. Not even when the snake began slivering up his arm.

"He's so cute." Gustave giggled. "He tickles!"

Erik gave a small smile.

…

"You enjoy reading?" Erik asked, watching the boy tilt his head to read the spines of the endless shelves of novels within the parks private library: more of Erik's personal wish than a suitable attraction.

"Yeah." Gustave said, pulling a thinner book from the shelf, well thin in comparison to the ones whose length rivaled the bible. "I read lot at home but I'm not that good at it. Mama helps me with the long words. What's this one about?"

"That is called The Count of Monte Cristo," Erik said, "it's my favorite novel."

"My favorite is 'the Wizard of Oz'," Gustave admitted, "it took papa forever to find it in French. And mama says that they aren't gonna write the next book in French at all."

"There's another one?"

"Well yeah. Oz is a big place with a lot more stories."

"I don't think books should be continued. The original loses its meaning that way."

"I always thought that the story continues after the pages stop. And even if it's different, it's still something close to what you love. Maybe the writer learned something after the book was finished and he wanted to teach everyone else anyways."

"Or maybe he just wanted more money."

"Well that too."

Gustave giggled.

"Well either way I want to read it." Gustave said.

Erik gave a small laugh.

...

Erik was now carrying a tired Gustave in his arms, heading towards the theater.

"Did you have fun today, Gustave?" Erik asked, the boy's head resting in his shoulder.

"Hmmhm." Gustave mumbled, Erik feeling his head nod.

"I'm glad to hear that." Erik almost whispered.

He was now right in front of the theater. He gently placed Gustave on a bench and ruffled his hair.

"Just wait here until your mother finds you alright?"

"Don't-don't you wanna see her?"

"I do, but your father doesn't really like you."

"Well I like you."

"That's very kind of you. But it doesn't change your father's opinions of me."

Erik got on his knees, going face to face with Gustave.

"Can you promise me something, Gustave?"

"Uhuh."

"I don't want your father knowing that we spent these few hours together. Promise me you won't talk to him about it? Say that you just got lost."

"Will you take me out again tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"Ok, I won't tell him."

"Good boy."

Erik ruffled the boys hair one more time before disappearing.

...

Christine was now frantic. He had been gone for nearly two hours. What if this was what he had warned about? What if she never saw him again. She wanted to blame Raoul, but she herself knew that Raoul could have chained Gustave to his wrist and the Phantom still could have slipped him out without anyone noticing.

And then, she saw him: her little, curly hair boy was fast asleep on a bench.

With a new found energy, she rushed towards him.

She gently touched his warm face, kissing his forehead and his eyes opened. She picked him up and held him close.

"Gustave, I was so worried about you." Christine whispered, so close to tears.

"I'm alright." Gustave said, rubbing his eyes. "I just-I just got lost."

"Got-got lost?"

"Oh thank goodness you found him." Meg said, rushing up to them.

"Thank goodness." Christine said, standing up, Gustave now in her arms.

"Aw he's so cute." Meg said, ruffling the boys hair. "He has your curls. And those eyes…"

Meg took a step back, startled by something.

"Yes he has my father's eyes." Christine lied. "My dad had these bright silver eyes. They're quite common in Sweden."

"Yeah, yeah." Meg said, still startled by the uncanny resemblance. "They might be common in Sweden, but they are really unusual here. They're so stunning: so unique."

"I should probably find Raoul." Christine said, hoping for Meg to remain ignorant.

She started walking but then she noticed a black figure watching her from the roof of the theater.

"Um Meg, could I ask you a favor." Christine said, changing her mind.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Could you take Gustave to Raoul?" Christine asked. "I need to have a few words with our employer."


	9. Chapter9:Christine Confronts the Phantom

Chapter 9: Christine Confronts the Phantom

She was now standing alone in his beautiful office. Meg and Gustave were off to find Raoul. She prayed to God for the courage to face him.

"I know you're here." Christine said, standing tall. "Show yourself, ghost."

He didn't appear. She let out an exasperated groan and began to pace, looking for him.

The office itself looked spotless, as if the entire thing had been carved out of obsidian. It didn't seem worn in at all: like he never actually used it. She approached his empty desk, curious about the drawings on the top of the carved mahogany. She instantly recognized who it was of: Gustave. All of the papers on the desk were of him.

She gave a angry huff and threw down the paper, turning her heels from the obsession. Wanting to be anywhere but by his charcoal drawings and wanting to confront him, she resumed searching the place. She entered a room off to the side, hidden behind two large doors. She peered inside. There was a magnificent organ and a grand piano and a violin hung up on the wall, but her old teacher was nowhere in sight. She almost left but then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a painting hanging above his organ, half hidden behind a black curtain.

She slowly moved towards it. It was a beautiful painting: most exquisite than anything DaVinci could have created. It wasn't until she began focusing on it that she realized that it was no ordinary goddess that he had painted: it was herself.

This was what he saw when he looked at her: a beautiful, illuminating goddess in a dark world. She moved the curtain to see more of the painting.

She let out a gasp.

The beautiful woman was carrying a sleeping infant in her arms.

"Six years are you're still that curious little girl." The Phantom whispered behind her.

She turned her heels and faced him.

"You decided to take my son out for the day." She said, getting straight to the point.

"What gave you that impression."

"He was gone for over two hours."

"Dreadful. You must have been so worried. I'm glad you found him."

"You took him!"

"I can assure you, Christine, I didn't take the boy though it would be completely within my jurisdiction to do so."

"I can assure, monsieur Fantome, if you come near my son…"

"Rather embarrassing, my Christine." The Phantom said in a hushed whisper, "Not even knowing the name of your lover."

"You are not my lover." Christine said boldly.

"But I was. Don't you dare deny it."

"Stop. Just-just stop. I want to say something. You are going to listen to me. Understand?"

"Of course, my Christine. Anything."

"You will stay away from my son." Christine said, sternly, no fear in her voice though her heart was pounding.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because...because…"

"Once again you are asking the world yet have nothing to give me in return."

"I won't be your pawn anymore." Christine said, fighting back tears. "Stay away from my family. Cease this torment. Can't you see you are torturing me? You are hurting me."

"And you think that you are not also torturing my soul?" The Phantom said. "You're torturing me now, just by standing there. I long to embrace you, my Christine. I want to hold you close and kiss you every waking minute."

"I am not your Christine." She said, her voice quivering from fear and anger. "You had your chance. I was yours one night long ago. Our story is over."

"Rather sad then." Erik said. "You are only 22. You can't really believe that your life has peaked so early. When I was in my early 20's I was alone in a damp sewer, praying to God that he would send me an angel. It took him 6 years to answer my prayer and what I got was a helpless, orphaned little 7 year old girl with curly brown hair, large brown eyes and had the most beautiful voice of any other woman."

"God didn't send me to you." Christine said. "The devil sent me to you."

"Then I must thank him some time."

"You are despicable. You feel happy at all the torture you have caused me?"

"I rather doubt your life was all that horrifying Christine." Erik said, a bit mad. "The wife of a Viscomte. Beautiful. Talented. Wealthy. A Celebrity. Provided for. A handsome husband who loves you. A beautiful boy for a son. A hard life indeed. You must accept my apologies for believing that my life was Hell when you have lived a life with so much more pain and sorrow."

"Of course that is all that you see." Christine said, "So much like you to judge things on the surface."

"You little…" Erik had lost his temper and that he had pinned Christine to the wall.

"How dare you!" Christine shouted. "Get off of me this instant!"

"How dare you!" Erik screamed, his voice booming. "Don't you dare tell me that I'm just looking on the surface! All of my life people have seen me and thought I was a monster! When people see you, they see an angel. When people see me they see a demon! But it seems we have both become what people have said we are."

"All you see me as is a pleasure tool!" Christine shouted back. "You don't love me. I know you don't. If you loved me you wouldn't have left me. You wouldn't be telling me that the pain I have felt for that last six years is all in my head. You don't love me."

"I love you, Christine. That's why I left." Erik said, backing away from Christine. "I couldn't provide for you...I couldn't give you what you deserved."

Silence for a few moments.

"All I wanted was music...and you." Christine admitted. "I didn't want fame, or wealth or whatever insane thing you can come up with. That night...that night...I wanted it to last forever. I felt so safe with you."

"Is there a chance for us?" Erik asked.

"No."

"You hesitated."

"Erik." Christine said firmly. "I don't want you anymore. And even if I did I am a married woman."

"That won't matter in a few days."

"There will be no chance for us if you go through with your threat. I am sure of that."

"Why do you hate me?"

"You left me."

"I gave you a better life. What did the Viscomte do? Did you misuse you?"

"No...of course not."

"Then I don't understand why you…"

"You almost killed me." Christine finally snapped.

Erik was stunned silent at the accusation.

"I- I would never hurt you." Erik finally stammered.

"But you did. The night...you left me...well you know what happened."

"I know. I left you pregnant. Please don't remind me. It hurts me to know that I did to you even if you don't believe it. Go on."

"Well…" Christine was crying now. "I was very young...and my body was too small to carry a child. The doctors told me that-that getting rid of the child would be my only chance at surviving. I didn't. I couldn't murder a child: especially not your child. I-I thought you were dead. Your son was the last thing you gave me. I couldn't just...just…"

Christine broke down into tears, remembering the pain she had felt. Erik tried to put his hand on her back to comfort her, but she backed away from him.

"My pregnancy was horrid." She admitted. "There wasn't a moment I wasn't sick. And when Gustave came...I almost died. The doctors said I would die. They said that Gustave would not live long either and that it was lucky that he was born with a heartbeat at all."

"I...I had no idea, Christine." Erik's voice cracked.

"It took almost two years, but I got healthier. Gustave...Gustave never fully healed." Christine said, tears still streaming down her face. "Every time a doctor would look him over, They would say the same thing: he shouldn't be alive. He's weak and frail. They said that it would be better for him to be dead than live the way he does."

"Christine...if I had known."

"What could you have done?" Christine said, an unusual scowl on her face. "Nothing. Nothing you could have done would have changed what I went through."

"I...I could have been there for you. Given you comfort." Erik said sorrowfully. "Christine…"

"I've had enough of this. It's over. We're over. I'm leaving and I'm never coming back. I am not singing for you."

"Actually, that's not for you to decide."

"I refuse."

"Your husband signed a contract. You have to sing. If you don't...well legally it wouldn't end well for you or your family."

They stood in silence for a moment, just staring at one another, unsure of what to say.

Then Christine sprung forward and slapped hard across the face.

He stood there in shock. Christine had never done anything like this before.

He began to laugh like a madman. Any feeling of power drained from Christine just like the color drained from her face as he bolted towards her.

He grabbed her wrists and pressed her against the wall, still letting that chilling laugh escape from his throat.

"You've gotten bold, my Christine." The Phantom taunted, his body pressing against hers. "But try as you might, you know you can't overpower me."

She squirmed and kicked and bit but she couldn't escape from his grasp. And then, he started to sing.

"No...no…" Christine whimpered. "Please...please no…"

" _Floating, falling."_ His haunting voice seized control of her. " _Sweet intoxication…"_

His song continued and the world around her fell away. She couldn't recall what she was doing, but it felt heavenly. What-what was she doing. She tried to block out his voice from her thoughts but each time she tried, the siren song pulled her back in with more force.

His song halted for a instant in order for him to let out a moan. But it was enough to snap her back to reality. His hips were locked onto hers and her arms were wrapped around him, her fingernails digging into his back. He head was buried into his shoulder, her lips on his throat. She tasted blood in her mouth. Her skirts were pushed up to her thighs, his rough hand clenched onto her flesh.

Realizing what she had been doing, she let go.

He loosened his grip and she scampered away from him. She glared at him, repulsed at the very sight of him

"I hate you." She spat, meaning every word.

Christine left the room, but she couldn't help hear his voice whispering something she wouldn't forget.

"My little Gustave." Erik said, his voice quiet. "I am so sorry...I didn't know…"

Still furious and emotionally distraught, she left the theater. Upon exited, she was greeted by Darius and a man who obviously was a reporter.

"Ah, Mrs. de Changy," Darius said politely.

"I'm sorry Darius," Christine said, not really wanting to be around anyone at the moment. "But I just need to get to my hotel."

"I don't mean to bother you, Mrs." Darius said, controlling not forcefully "This gentleman, Cholly, is a friend of mine and he works for a newspaper company. It would mean a lot for him if he could get a picture for him. We'll happily pay you for it."

"No, no it's quite alright." Christine said, refusing to money Darius was offering. "I'll gladly let him take my picture."

She posed, giving a slight grin to the camera.

"You are very pretty, Mrs. Christine." Cholly said. "The paper's will love this. Are you enjoying your time in America?"

"You asked for a photo, not an interview." Christine remarked, "But I must say while most people I've run into here are pleasant...I don't think I'm fond of American business men."

"Trouble with yer boss?"

"Definitely." Christine said, straightening her hair a bit and hoping she didn't have bags under her eyes. "He's quite the heartless, greedy demon."

Cholly snapped the photo, sending a puff of smoke into the air.

"Thank you, Mrs." Cholly said, shaking her hand and getting powder on her white gloves.

"It was my pleasure." Christine said, her tiredness clearly showing. "Now I need to get back to my husband and son. I've been away from them for far too long."


	10. Chapter 10: The Beauty Underneath

Chapter 10: The Beauty Underneath

Gaylord Springg's Newspaper

August 31st, 1905: Thursday

OPERA DIVA'S LOVE AFFAIR CONFESSION ON CONEY

Christine Daae, the well known opera singer from France, was caught in the arms of the multi-billionaire owner of the Coney Island amusement park "Phantazma" and E.Y. Industries. Christine, age 22, is the wife of the Viscomte de Changy, a marriage made almost 6 years ago in order to cover up a previous scandal on the Diva's record.

"She puts up a good act." A show girl on Phantazma by the name of Sierra Brightman put, "she acts innocent enough: like she's never done a thing wrong in her life. But she's a professional actress. As a performer, you have things to hide. All performers do. Just the dirt on her is a bit much. But what can you expect. He's her boss: either she agrees to what he says or she gets kicked to the curb. That's show biz."

As seen in the photo, their relationship seems to be one of…

The Phantom threw down the newspaper Darius had brought him in rage and disgust.

"How did they get that picture!" Erik screamed as he knocked his desk to the floor in rage. "We were alone! No one could have seen us! And they have the gall to call her a whore!"

"Wow. That's the first sentence in a while that I haven't heard a curse word in yet." Darius said, "Don't get me wrong, I'm as mad about this as you are but I'm also as stumped as you are."

Darius casually walked over to the air vents of the building and tapped his fingers on it.

"The vents." Erik said, his eyes drawn to the noise Darius had made. "That's how they got the picture."

"The vents?" Darius questioned. "I highly doubt someone would just randomly crawl into an air vent in hopes of getting a picture."

"I'm positive. It must have been an inside job..."

"Hm." Darius pretended to think. "Well I know you'll figure it out. My condolences to whoever decided to cross you. I must be off. Giry is complaining about the budget cuts for her daughters show on Saturday and apparently she won't work. So I have to go handle that. Sorry to bring you that newspaper but everyone else was too afraid of you to do the job."

"Giry..." Erik said as Darius left his office.

…

The Phantom decided the best way to torment Christine was by breaking his promise. Nothing tortures a mother worse than not knowing where her child is.

Gustave was walking on the ledge of the railing leading up to Erik's towering office's, his hand held tight to Erik's. Erik, of course, wasn't worried about the boy using the railing as his own personal highwire: Erik would never let him fall. The boy meant everything to him. The Phantom had sunk into their apartment earlier that morning, after Christine had gone to work but before Raoul was awake, and left a note saying that Gustave was with Christine before taking the child once more.

"What would you like to do today, little Gustave?" Erik's calming voice seemed to whisper.

"Anything. You always have amazing things to show me."

Erik took Gustave to the scarier parts of the park: parts that had grown men screaming in terror. Gustave, as the Phantom expected, was not afraid.

"You can see all of the machines in there?" The Phantom asked as they came out of a horror-show walk-through maze, Gustave still in his arms.

"Well yeah. I can see all of them."

"So you knew when the scares would come?"

"Kinda...I guess..."

"You have amazing vision then, Gustave. It's pitch black in that attraction and you were able to see everything."

"Is that weird?"

"No, no of course not. You are perfect in every way. It is an amazing gift to be able to find your way in the dark: especially at a young age."

The two did a few more attractions. Every moment Erik spent with his son, the more he realized just how talented and intelligent he was. He saw himself in Gustave. God cursed both of them: Erik with ugliness and Gustave with sickness. But both were given extraordinary talents as compensation.

The day was going perfect until about 2 o clock.

"Mr. Erik.?" Gustave asked, "why do you wear a mask?"

"To hid my face of course."

"But why?"

"I'm terribly deformed on the right side of my face. People don't seem to want to look at my misfortune so I save them the pain and horror and just hide it from them."

"May I see?"

In the back of his mind, Erik was screaming 'don't ever ask that question' but he found himself believing that Gustave could handle it.

"I'll make a deal with you. Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

Erik carried Gustave over to another attraction.

"This is a maze of mirrors." Erik explained. "The mirrors change constantly: it is an ever changing labyrinth. It's my largest and most complicated attraction. If you are able to get through the maze without my guidance or anyone else's under half an hour, you may look under my mask."

"Is it hard?"

"Well considering that most guests get trapped in the maze and have to scream for help: yes it is difficult to get out."

"Do you think I will be able to make it through?"

"I have every reason to think that you can get us through this maze in just a few minutes."

"Really?"

"Of course. But you have to walk."

"Ok!"

Erik set Gustave down on the ground. Gustave wobbled a bit before getting his footing. Gustave then grabbed hold of Erik's pant leg, to small and short to reach his hand.

"Ok, Gustave. Lead on."

…

Raoul had been having a good day. It was Friday: the day before the big show. He had gotten a pleasant note from Christine that morning that she had to go in early that day and that Gustave was in her care after being woken from a nightmare.

Raoul took the free time to enjoy himself. Of course his idea of enjoying himself was doing something nice for his wife and son. They were never far from his mind or his heart.

The first thing he did was bake. Despite popular belief that all nobles did was count their money (which was true for the most part) Raoul did have a passion for baking. Since Christine was sick for most part of 2 years, Raoul took on her duties. Of course he had the finest cooks at his disposal, but Christine's face would only light up when she learned that Raoul was the one who prepared her meal.

Once the blueberry muffins were finished, he packed a few into a brown bag and put them in his case. He then donned his coat, hat and scarf and headed off to Coney Island to surprise his wife and son with some homemade treats.

It was almost 2:00 when he arrived at Coney Island. He knew that Christine was still in rehearsals so he decided just to wait behind the stage and wait for her. While there, he ran into a familiar face.

"Madame Giry?" Raoul asked the black clad woman. "Is that you?"

"It is, and who are you?"

"It's me. Raoul."

"Oh yes, the Viscomte." Giry's face turned from a grim stare to a small smile, rather pleased to see her old friend. "I can honestly say that I am glad to see you. You look so different with your hair cut short like that."

"Well I couldn't deal with it being at my shoulders forever you know." Raoul said, "but thank you Madame. May I ask, have you seen Christine?"

"Christine? She's here as well?"

"Well of course she's here." Raoul said, a bit confused. "She's performing tomorrow night. Surely Meg must have told you? She helped Christine and I find our son a few days ago."

"Meg has been busy most nights. I only ever see her at practice." Giry said, her face turning sour. "Are you certain that it's tomorrow night?"

"Certain."

"That explains why all the funds for my daughter's performance have been taken away." Giry said, a bit bitterly but still trying to keep her social graces. "Christine is performing?"

"Yes. An aria." Raoul said, proudly. "Haven't heard a note of it but I am certain that it is breathtaking."

"Have you met with your employer?"

"Actually...no. Rather odd don't you think? It is just an American thing?"

"The owner is French: not American."

"Very odd. I wonder why he has not wished to speak to us yet."

"Oh he's spoken to your wife, Christine. Surely you saw yesterday's paper?"

"Oh that stupid scandal article. I've heard of it but haven't seen it. If rather not read gossip about my wife."

"Hm. You can't honestly be so ignorant to the situation."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The boss. Surely you have figured out who he is."

"I have no idea."

"It's him."

…

Not to the Erik's surprise, Gustave was doing immensely well with the maze. Gustave knew to follow different paths than the masses. At a certain point, Gustave pulled the 'put your hand on the wall' trick but instead of using his right, he used his left reasoning that since they were already far to the right, they needed to stick to the left. It worked. Within 15 minutes, Gustave had woven his way through the entire maze.

"That is extraordinary, Gustave."

"Thank you, Mr. Erik."

"Do you still wish to see what's beneath my mask?"

"Yes."

He bent down to his level. He stared into Gustave's eyes: those large, round silvery starlight filled eyes. Eyes were the windows to the soul: while the child possessed the beauty of Christine, his soul seemed to be that of his father's. Erik, for the first time in his life, happily removed his mask.

…

"Him?!" Raoul screamed, connecting the dots.

"Hush, monsieur." Giry whispered. "Not so loud."

"You work for him?" He said in a hushed voice, anger still in his tone.

"So do you."

"No. No he can't be here." Raoul proclaimed. "He's been dead for 5 or so years. It was in the papers!"

"So was the story about your wife and him having an affair." Giry pointed out.

"I must find her. That monster could be doing anything to her! Where is she?"

"Her dressing room is over there, at the end of the hall. You can't miss it."

"Thank you, Madame."

Raoul sped off to find his wife, his mind filled with horrible thoughts on what that demon could be forcing her to do.

Raoul did not know much of what happened between the two of them. Christine had never confirmed that he claimed her as his own but she had also never denied it. Raoul knew that she cared for him, to some extent because he had watched her weep for days once learning of his death. Any mentioning of him would bring Christine to tears. So Raoul learned to not ask any questions regarding 'her angel' (as she still called him fore she knew not his name) and then she would remain happy.

Christine claimed that he had never hurt her. Or ever would.

Raoul did not believe that.

"Christine!" He called as he knocked hard on her dressing room door. "Christine! Open up!"

"Raoul?" Christine opened up. "What are you doing here? I'm almost done, just a few more minutes."

"I'm sorry to bother you, darling. But we need to get off of this island. Now."

"Raoul. I don't understand. Are you feeling alright?"

"Christine. He's here."

"Who?"

"Him!"

"I don't understand..."

"That monster! That insane masked demon!"

"Oh no... Raoul please... I've known."

"You knew he was here?! Why didn't you tell me? He threatened you didn't he?"

"Well...sort of. Raoul listen. I had to take the job: we need the money. We're spending more than we are making. We need the money."

"I will not allow you to perform here. That paper...it had a picture of him uh...uh abusing you. Did he?"

"Please...Raoul we'll talk about this later. But for now, where's Gustave?"

"Gustave...I thought you-you had him."

"What? No. I left him home this morning. Like always."

"No...no I got a note from you this morning saying that you had him."

"I never left a note nor is he with me."

Christine's chest rose up and down rapidly, her breath growing short.

"Dear lord." Raoul exclaimed. "That monster has him..."

"No...no he promised me that he would stay away from Gustave!" Tears crept from her eyes, her hand was on her heart. "He promised me...he promised me."

"You can't trust a word that seducer utters. Hurry. We must find Gustave and pray we aren't too late!"

Raoul grabbed her wrist and the couple sprinted out of the theater.

They scourged the park, calling his name in desperation.

…

His gentle little fingers felt so soft and warm against his tender flesh. He fought back tears and his mouth felt weird as he openly smiled.

"Whoa..." Gustave said with a smile and a slight giggle. "It feels so weird! Does it hurt?"

"Not really, no."

That wasn't really the truth. It was rather uncomfortable and hiding it beneath a mask only rubbed it raw, agitating it to a point that would drive any man into insanity.

"Then why are you crying?" Gustave asked, his laughter fading and a cute look of concern replacing his cheerfulness.

"I'm just-I'm just happy." Erik confessed, touching the boy's face.

Oh this little boy was a gift from heaven. This little boy...HIS little boy. Ah this precious little thing…to look at a monster and smile.

 _"Mon cadeau du ciel._ " Erik said, playing with his curly, raven locks.

"Why is it like this?" Gustave questioned, the boy having inherited Christine's curiosity and his father's thirst for understanding. "Did someone scar it?"

"I was born like this." Erik said, feeling so open to the boy. "There's not really a reason. I've tried many times to figure out why: no one knows."

"I have a mark too." Gustave said, happily pointing out the similarities between them. "See?"

Erik obviously could see: it was the only flaw the boy had. Right below his right ear, covered by his hair was a little spot of demormed, ridged flesh. The little mark filled the Phantom with self loathing.

That little mark should not be there. He was so perfect from his small frame to his stunning eyes. He shouldn't have been blemished. It wasn't his fault: it was a sin of the father that he had passed down to his son.

"Mr. Erik?" Gustave asked, his worry so endearing. "Are you alright?"

"You shouldn't have that mark." The Phantom said, his voice angry.

"Huh?" Gustave said, his joy fading, "why-why not?"

"You're...you're too perfect." The Phantom said, his teeth gritted. "You shouldn't be blemished with a deformity similar to mine."

Of course he would be cursed. How could he not be with a father that he had. This perfect little boy had to be marked as the son of the devil somehow. It made the Phantom's blood boil. He had done this. Once more his cursed deformity tainted everything.

"But I like it."

Erik blinked in confusion. Surely the boy hadn't said that. There was no possible way that he had said that he tolerated-liked- his mark of the devil.

"I like it." Gustave blushed, apparently embarrassed by his own opinion. "It's like...like my lucky mark."

"You...you aren't mad about it?"

"Why would I?"

Erik couldn't fathom what the boy had said. He didn't mind that his father had cursed him to never be whole? He wasn't sure how to comprehend it.

"You-you have eyes like mine." Gustave said, touching his eyelid, noticing the unique similarity between the two of them.

"They are rather similar."

Erik could see the cogs in Gustave's head working. He was putting it together. They both were musically inclined. They had marks on the right sides of their faces. Their eyes, while different shapes, were the same color of stunning silver.

But Erik also knew Gustave couldn't fully understand why they were so similar. His innocent mind, while highly intelligent, couldn't comprehend why they were similar.

Though, the more Erik thought about it, the more he realized that even if the boy had not been his, the two still would have been kindred spirits. Even if they didn't share blood, Erik would have been enamored by his laughter. Gustave, no matter who his father was, would still have been a perfect little angel that was fascinated with the bizarre. It wasn't because of their blood that Gustave was looking at his unmasked face without fear.

It wasn't his blood that made him love him.

…

Christine was praying for a miracle as her husband and she desperately combed through the park. She had never seen Raoul so furious. Would he try to kill him? Would Christine try to stop him...She wasn't sure…

The miracle came. Reflected from within a maze of mirrors, she saw his face. She suppressed a gasp as she saw that he was no longer wearing his mask. She didn't think twice before running into the maze of mirrors, Raoul on her heels.

Despite their efforts, they were soon lost within the maze, the face of a demon reflecting on every sleek surface. She became frantic. It didn't take long for her to notice that the mirrors changed positions. But that wasn't what was causing her to panic. Every time she turned a corner, she thought she would see him but it was only his reflection. Everywhere she turned-there he was. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

She snapped.

She clenched her fists and thrust it into the mirror, shattering it into thousands of pieces.

The pain was instant as the glass pieces embedded themselves into her skin. But...she could no longer see his face. The illusion had shattered.

"Christine!" Raoul shouted in horror, looking at the smashed mirror and her bloody hand.

She didn't care. She smashed her elbow into another, scraping up her dress sleeve and no doubt bruising her arm. Raoul just stared at her in shock.

The faces turned towards them. He knew they were here now. Christine clenched her bloodied hand and tears streamed down her face: she left so lost.

Then, as if by magic, the mirrors changed position to reveal him-him in the flesh. She rushed between the rotating mirrors, barely making it through before they closed.

Raoul had not followed behind her.

She was at his mercy.

To her bewilderment, Gustave was in his arms. But he didn't appear like a hostage: he seemed to like being with him. Oh how she could relate to the feeling.

"Erik." Christine commanded, her rage not subsiding. "Let him go."

"My dear Christine," The Phantom said, his hideously deformed face twisted into a sinister smile. "He likes being with me. I'd be more concerned about your hand. It's bleeding."

"Mama?" Gustave said, confused and now concerned. "Why are you hurt?"

"Darling, listen to me." Christine told her child. "Tell Erik to let you go. He'll listen to you."

"But-but I like being with him." Gustave stammered uncertain. "I'm-I'm happy with him. I know he looks a bit scary…"

"Gustave. Tell him to put you down."

Gustave looked up at the Phantom. The Phantom could tell that the boy wanted nothing more than to stay with him. But even then...the Phantom knew what Gustave needed to do.

"Listen to your mother." Erik told the boy.

"Ok…" The boy said disappointed. "Mr. Erik, could you put me down?"

His heart wasn't into it, but just as Christine said, Erik obeyed.

"Gustave, come here. Please."

Gustave looked back up at Erik. Erik motioned to the child to go to his mother. Gustave hesitantly walked to Christine where she held onto him tight.

"Christine."

Erik was unsure of what to say so he just spoke her name. He wasn't sure of what he wanted to say. He wanted to say so much. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she had become. He wanted to tell her how much he adored her. He wanted to tell her how much he admired and cared for Gustave.

And yet he couldn't come up with the words.

"Come on, darling." Christine said, picking up the boy. "We're leaving."

"Christine-I love him."

Erik's voice cracked. He was so desperate. He couldn't live without the boy and yet Christine would take him away. He couldn't blame her for wanting to get them apart. He had abandoned them both- he had no right to claim them now. But he wanted him. He so desperately wanted him.

Christine stared at him. Oh those eyes...those beautiful stunning silver eyes. Every time she looked into them she felt she would never look away. While she felt condemned for thinking so, she was so grateful that she had gave birth to his baby, one with his stunning and unique eyes.

"Christine." Erik said, his voice desperate and hoarse. "He's the first person to look at me without fear. Christine, I love him."

"I can't have him around you." Christine said, refusing to bend to his will. "Erik. You know what you've done. You know why he can't be with you."

"You can't just take him from me" The Phantom demanded. "He's such a perfect creation."

"He's a boy, monsieur fantome," Christine said boldly, "not a trinket you can display. He's not your object!"

How dare she...how dare she! She couldn't begin to comprehend how much he adored them and now she claimed that he thinks of them as mere trinkets?

"Christine," He whispered, he words almost a song, "I love you. I love your boy. You want to be with me. You want me. You can deny it, but you know that you still desire me. You want me to protect you and shelter you and love you every waking minute. You want the same thing for your child."

"No, I don't." Christine said, but even she didn't believe the words. She sounded like a child refusing to take their medicine

"I am your angel of music." He sang, calling her to him. "Come to me, angel of music."

Just like he expected, she began slowly, but surely, walking towards him. So long as he kept singing, her inner desires came out. With Gustave still in her embrace, he took her waist and pulled her into an embrace. With one hand, she embraced him back. He used one hand to help her hold Gustave up. Thankfully, the child seemed just as enamored by his voice as Christine was: there was this glaze in his eyes that indicated that he didn't fully comprehend what was happening.

They only heard music.

He continued to sing to her, his haunting melody seeming to control her every move. The frail little boy was lulled into a deep and much needed sleep, safe in his parents arms. He looked so peaceful while he was asleep.

She was pressed onto him, there noses brushing against each other. Her head buried itself into his shoulder, gently biting the nape of his neck. Argh the feeling of her flesh against him. The next thing he knew, the two were kissing. And kissing. His hand went to her face, his fingers playing with her curls that were tucked into a loose bun. He gently bit her lip.

Her body had changed quite a bit, he soon learned as his hands roamed her new curves. She was a bit more plump, a bit taller. Her lips were larger and far more experienced in the art of kissing. But mostly, she was the same. She was the same Christine: the woman he loved every inch of.

They kissed with the same amount of lust and passion that had created the love child in their arms.

It felt so good to be kissing her once more. It felt even better knowing that, now that he was silenced, she was kissing him out of free will.

The child begin to stir, breaking the couple's concentration. Christine stepped away from her old lover, angry tears streaming down her face.

"Don't deny it," Erik demanded, but his voice loving, "you enjoyed that. You wouldn't have continued if you didn't."

Christine was so conflicted. She-she did enjoy kissing him. It hurt her soul how much she enjoyed kissing him. It felt so right. The chaste kisses she shared with Raoul were nothing compared to the passion and fire from His lips. She shouldn't be feeling these things about him. She shouldn't enjoy being in his embrace.

He had hurt her: physically, emotionally, mentally. He had almost strangled her the night of Don Juan. He masqueraded as her angel of music, twisting her mind into believing he was a gift from God. He left her, defenseless and with his son after a night of pure pleasure and bliss. Time and time again he proved why she couldn't be around him...but she still was drawn to him.

"Christine, don't deny it."

"I loved you!" She shouted angrily, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. "And deep down I-I still do...But we both know we can't be together. I can't be with you...and you know why."

He wanted to scream at her that she could be with him if that's what she truly desired. He was more than able to care for her, provide her with every want and need she possessed. He could give her passion and now he could provide her with security.

But the blood on his hands...he would never be clean of that. Christine would never truly be safe around him. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he couldn't be trusted around her or his son. His heart was already plagued with the guilt of putting his hand on her throat. He couldn't live with himself if he hurt his child.

And his actions hadn't shown that he had changed at all in these 6 years. He had stolen her child at least three times this week and had convinced him that he was to be trusted.

It wasn't circumstances that kept them apart anymore. His face was no longer the problem and probably had never been an issue. It was him. He wasn't deserving of her.

Once more...he knew he had to let go.

"Please, for him and for me," Christine begged. "Help me say goodbye."

He was silent. He wanted her. He now wanted her child. He wanted them now more than ever.

But he couldn't.

"Go." Was what he said.

Despite only saying one word, Christine understood the depth of it. He would no longer torment her. She was free.

"I will sing." Christine spoke up. "Tomorrow night. I will sing once more. For you. And then we will go."

She turned away from him, heading towards the exit where her husband was no doubt worried sick about her and their child.

"I owe you that much."

She walked away, her little boy piering over her shoulder and locking eyes with a man with identical silver orbs.


	11. Chapter 11: Truth

Chapter 11: Dark Thoughts

The Phantom watched in regret as Christine walked to her husband who embraced her. No matter how much he hated him, he wanted with all of his heart to be Raoul. Oh what a life that would be: handsome, wealthy, powerful and, most important, in possession of the two most precious objects on the earth: Christine and Gustave.

For a brief moment, Erik let his mind dream of what it would like to be the fop. He imagined Christine kissing him on the cheek every morning as he woke. He dreamt of caring for Gustave every free moment he had. He even imagined having an occasional argument with Christine and him.

But, as always, his wishful thinking only made reality even more bitter than before.

"Christine...I love you." Erik whispered as he the family fade from view. "Gustave...oh my little boy...I am sorry. May fate allow you to remain ignorant. But I swear, my young one, one good thing will come from you're unfortunate parentage. Everything I own, everything I've created, will be yours. Burn it to the ground, for all I care, forget the horrid memories you have acquired here. But it will be yours...my son."

Erik walked over to his mask and wig which were lying on the ground. Placing them back on his face, he seemed to return to his old menacing self. Any tenderness in his mannerisms and any sweet thought that had entered his mind vanished as the porcelain burden returned to its proper place.

He left the maze of mirrors, longing to seek refuge within his office.

"Mr. Younifi!"

The Phantom groaned and turned to face Darius.

"What is it?" The Phantom spat.

"Giry needs to talk to you."

"Of course she does…"

…

"Christine. Are you hurt?" Raoul said, frantically, as the couple walked away from the mirror maze. "What did he do to you? Why did you go to him?"

"Raoul." Christine said, her eyes filled with tears and Gustave in her arms. "Please, not now. We'll talk later."

Raoul wanted to scream that he wanted answers that very instant, but he complied and waited. The wait took longer than he expected. Apparently "later" meant when Gustave was asleep. They sat through a silent dinner and just remained in silence until it was time for Gustave to go to bed. After the tiring day, Gustave fell asleep quickly. Raoul knew that his mind would be plagued with nightmares tonight. He couldn't help but pity the boy: spending the day held hostage by the elusive Phantom of the Opera.

After almost an eternity of waiting, Raoul finally had the chance to talk to Christine.

"What did he do to you?" Raoul asked, his voice rapid and frantic. "Why did you go to him? What does he want with you? Did he hurt Gustave? What does he want with Gustave?"

"Raoul...please..." Christine said, grabbing her husband's hand in order to comfort him.

"Tell me." Raoul put bluntly.

"He didn't do anything to me." Christine admitted, lying through her teeth.

"You know I don't believe that." Raoul said, growing impatient, "you've been lying to me this entire trip. You knew he was here. Why didn't you tell me?"

"He...he threatened me." Christine admitted.

"I knew it." Raoul said. "That monster always enjoys it when you're terrified into submission."

"Raoul...he's not a monster..."

"Forgive me for saying so, but the man is a complete lunatic." Was Raoul's response. "But that aside. What did he threaten? Did he...did he...threaten to...um... take advantage of you?"

"No..." Christine said, honest. "No but what he threatened was worse than that."

"What can be worse than that mons...man taking advantage of you?"

"He...he threatened Gustave." Christine said, fear pouring into her at the thought of it. "He said that he would steal him. Forever. I can only imagine what he would do..."

"Kill him." Raoul said, not understanding the emotional affect his words had on Christine. "That cold blooded murderer would have killed him. Gustave's my son: I'm that man's enemy. It wouldn't be unlike him to kill a child because of who his father was."

"He...didn't want to kill Gustave." Christine stammered. "He told me...that he...that he just wanted to raise him..."

"Why on earth would he want that?" Raoul said. "There is no way that is his true intentions. Probably wanted to twist that boy's mind until it's demented as his own."

"Raoul, stop." Christine said, firmly. "You don't know what you are talking about. I know he's a murderer...but even he has feelings. When...when he took me to his home that night of Hannibal...he was so...so gentle. He told me of his dreams."

"And what were those?" Raoul asked. "Or do I even want to know what his sick and twisted mind created."

"He...he dreamt of me." Christine said, trying not to smile at the tender memory: one of love, devotion and hidden passion. "He wanted me...as his wife. He told me that all he ever wanted from this life was to have a little wife to have walks with on Sundays. He...he wanted a family..."

"That beast wanted to...to have children with you?" Raoul said, disgusted with thought of Christine forced to carry and bare that monster's children.

"Well...yes." No matter how hard Christine tried to hide it, Raoul saw the corner of her lip move up in a semi-smile. "He told me, very poetically, that he wanted a nice little flat in the countryside, a pretty little woman on his arm and...and children..."

"He seems to have had every detail planned out." Raoul said, disgusted by the man's sick mind. "I am to assume that he told you the number of children you would have to bare before he would leave your body in peace?"

"He...he said that he wanted at least two: a son and a daughter." Christine said, not being able to look her husband in the eye. "And then after that it would be his wife's choice."

"I half expected him to say that he wanted a dozen."

"Raoul, he's not some lusting beast who has to mate like some savage forest animal." Christine said, offended. "He's a man just like any man. He just wanted a normal life."

"Normal people don't kidnap young girls and tell them that he plans on turning her into his little housewife." Raoul pointed out. "It's...improper that told that to you. But, what else happened that night. You've never told me one bit of it."

"Well..." Christine started feeling nervous. "I don't think...you want to know what happened."

"Christine," Raoul said, pleadingly. "I need to understand everything this man has done to you...maybe then I can understand what's going on. Maybe then I can understand you. Please. Give me the chance to understand."

"Alright..." Christine said, uncertain. "He took me down to his lair. There were candles everywhere. There was this boat. Everything was so beautiful but my eyes were only on him."

"Did he kidnap you?"

"No...not really." Christine confessed. "He offered his hand out to me...and I took it. I couldn't resist. His aura...it was overpowering. Seductive."

"Seductive?" Christine immediately regretted using that word. "He...he seduced you?"

"He...he tried..." Christine said, swallowing. "Throughout the evening, he told me how much he needed me. He...he blindfolded me."

"What?" Raoul practically screamed, "so that monster did take you that night."

"No no." Christine said, trying to make him understand. "He wanted me to listen to his music without sight: he wanted me to focus on music. He was a gentleman that night...mostly..."

"What do you mean by mostly?" Raoul said, once again fearing the worst.

"He...he embraced me a couple times." Christine said, embarrassed of the pleasure she took from her angel's touches. "He held me close: like a lover would. He wanted me to know that he...he wanted...that he..."

"That he wanted you to be his wife in every sense of the word." Raoul put it together, a look of repulsion on his face.

"Yes." Christine said, trying not to smile at the romantic night they shared. "He proposed to me after that."

"Just like that?"

"You proposed to me after knowing me for three months." Christine reminded him. "He proposed to me after knowing me for a lifetime. He protected me from the time I was seven: when I moved into the opera. Raoul, I know you love me, but you can't deny that the Phantom wasn't the only unorthodox one."

"He asked you to marry him...that night."

"Well...sort of...he didn't get down on one knee or recite a love poem." Christine admitted. "He led me over to this mannequin in my likeness wearing a wedding dress. I clearly understood what he meant by this gesture."

"He made a mannequin that resembled you?" Raoul said disgusted, hating this man more by the minute.

"Well...yes." Christine wished that she hadn't said that but the damage was already done.

"That man belongs in an asylum." Raoul decided. "He's completely mad."

"Raoul, please." Christine said, this conversation not going the way she had hoped.

"I'm sorry darling, I know that he thought he was an angel for most of your childhood" Raoul said, hating the words, "But you do understand that what I am saying is true. Please, continue. What else happened?"

"I...I fainted." Christine said. "I was so confused. He had just asked for my hand in marriage. I didn't know what to feel or what to think. The night had been so peaceful and beautiful. He had always been so kind to me. My heart was telling me to say yes…"

"You were going to say yes to that monster?" Raoul raised his voice.

"Raoul, you must understand that I didn't know who he truly was." Christine said, her voice raw and broken. "I knew him as the man who took care of me, the one who dried my tears when I cried, the one who did everything in his power to make my dreams come true. If I had not fainted, I probably would have said yes and I would have been his wife and two people would still have their lives."

"Do you...do you still wish to be with him?" Raoul asked, nervously.

She didn't want to think of what might have happened. While she didn't want to admit it, had she not fainted, she most likely would have ended up in his bed...but with him with her. She was so enamored by him. When he had pulled her close, his fingers roaming her torso and between her legs, she didn't want him to stop. She had wanted to be intimate with him. She had wanted him to unlock her desires and satisfy them. He had been slowly leading her towards his bed the entire night. And looking into his silver eyes and his endless serenades. she had wanted the two of them to lay against the velvet sheets and make love.

"I...I wish that he had stayed that way." Christine said, not being able to look Raoul in the eyes, "I wish that he had stayed my Angel of Music. It's my fault he became a murderer."

"Those deaths are not on your conscious, Christine." Raoul assured her. "The blood is on his hands and not your own. He is the murderer."

"You don't understand." Christine continued, "The next morning, when I woke up I did something unforgivable to him: something that showed his twisted side."

"What did you do?"

"I removed his mask." Christine said, ashamed of what she had done. "Oh it was horrid the first time I saw it. I screamed. He...he lost his temper. He threw me to the floor and threw curses at me. It was the point of no return: I had no idea how my decision would affect everything."

"Removing a mask doesn't cause a person to become savage."

"You saw for yourself." Christine said. "He was never the same after that night. He grew darker, colder. There was a time when he was kind: when his voice was soft and his words inviting. There was a time when I was in love with him. That time is gone."

"I...I don't know what to say." Raoul said. "I didn't know that...that he was there for you when you needed him. I thought you were just an obsession to him and that he wanted nothing but your...your body. You...you did truly care for him, didn't you? I feel...I am...I am so sorry Christine."

"It's quite alright." Christine said. "I'm tired of being dishonest with you. You must know the truth. I did love him. Even when he had murdered those men, threatened your life and threatened...threatened my virtue, I still loved him. I had this false picture of him in my mind. It was hard to accept him for what he truly was: a monster. He was almost like a father to me. Imagine if you will, Raoul, your mother, the one who cared for you and loved you with all their heart suddenly becoming a murderer. It's a hard pill to swallow."

"Do...do you still love him?" Raoul asked, fearing the answer.

"I love what he was, not who he is." Christine said honestly. "In my mind, I do not wish that he had never been apart of my life. I am just saddened by what the world has turned him into: what I have turned him into."

"You did the rational thing, Christine." Raoul said. "I don't blame you for the deaths of those people, I'm sure no one else does. Who's to say that things would turn out better if you had said yes to his...proposal or if you had not removed his mask? Now, I must ask, what does he want with Gustave? Surely he must have told you?"

"Raoul...The Phantom...he...he has this connection to Gustave." Christine said, her eyes welling up with tears, knowing what was coming.

"He's obsessed with him like he was obsessed with you…" Raoul said. "Why is that? Does he just wish to torment you?"

"Raoul...there is something that you must know." Christine said, so ashamed of herself. "There...there is a reason Gustave doesn't...doesn't resemble you. There is a reason why he's different…"

"Christine?" Raoul took her hand, fearing her words.

"Gustave...Gustave…"

Christine's breathing was rapid. Her heart was beating out of her chest. Tears flowed like rain from her eyes. She felt so much guilt. She knew that that this day would come eventually. It was worse than she thought.

"Gustave…" Christine tired to find the words but was unable too. "He...The Phantom...before I...Gustave…"

"Gustave isn't my son." Raoul said, sadness filling in his eyes. "He's the son of that...that monster isn't he?"

Christine nodded her head, staring at the floor, unable to look him in the eyes.

Raoul felt only pity as he stared at his wife, her eyes red with tears, he body shaking uncontrollably.

"I am-am-so-so sorry…" Christine said, her words separated by long pauses so she could try to breath.

"Hush, hush." Raoul said, wrapping his arms around Christine. "It's...it's alright. But...but when...when did he...when?"

"The...the night before...our wedding...he...he took me…" Christine sobbed harder. "He was gone the...next morning...he...left me..."

"He left you alone...with his child." Raoul said through gritted teeth. "That bas…"

Raoul called The Phantom every curse that he knew. This only made Christine sob harder which caused Raoul to stop. This was why she had been afraid to tell him: she didn't want him to yell at her. She was afraid. She needed to be comforted.

"Don't cry, Christine." Raoul whispered into her ear. "It's alright. I'm not angry. He's the one to blame."

This only made Christine sob even harder.

"Christine...I love Gustave…" Raoul said, trying to stay calm through his anger "Nothing will change that. I love you too, my darling. I won't ask you any more of this: I can see it pains you greatly. Those memories must be full of horror. I don't wish for you to relive those memories. I don't care if Gustave is his: Gustave is still my son."

Christine returned his embrace.

"Thank you." Christine said, nuzzling into his shoulder.

Raoul carried Christine in his arms and placed her in their hotel bed. He wrapped Christine in blankets and kissed her forehead.

"Sleep, Christine." Raoul said, gently. "You must be exhausted."

Christine soon fell asleep. Raoul waited until he was sure that Christine was deeply asleep before letting his stress out.

Raoul punched a wall.

"How dare he!" Raoul said as he grabbed at his hair. "That sneaky son of a…"

Raoul had never been so furious in his life. That monster had taken Christine, forced himself on her and left her alone...with his child! All that pain Christine endured through her pregnancy, her pain in her labor, all the times he had seen her cry over her sick child: they were caused by that sick, twisted monster.

It was all His fault.

Raoul made his way to the kitchen, farther away from Christine so she wouldn't hear. He saw the bottle of wine from their "host" on the counter. Wanting something to relieve his anger, he poured himself a glass and drank it in one gulp.

The drink somehow made him feel better.

He drank another glassful of wine, feeling his stress and anger fade even more. He then went to bed, his mind still plagued with the horrifying images of what Christine must have gone through in order to conceive the Phantom of the Opera's child.


	12. Chapter 12: The Club

Chapter 12: Raoul Confronts the Phantom

Raoul knew. He finally knew. After all the years of lying and hiding, Christine had finally told him.

She expected to feel relieved, but she did not. She had heard those angry words he had shouted once he left the bedroom. She had heard those thuds as he hit his fists on the wall. She even swore that she had heard a cork being unscrewed implying that Raoul was having a drink or two to sort out the problems of his cheating wife

She had cheated on him. Christine remembered judging women who had cheated on their husbands: she had been so disgusted by them. But now, she would give anything to travel back in time and treat those women more kindly and with more understanding.

Christine had not given many details of the night she had spent with her fallen angel and she was sure that Raoul did not wish to hear them. It made Christine sick to think about the way she had acted.

Christine had received so much pleasure from her angel. Every touch, every kiss, every unspeakably heinous act he had committed with her was wanted and pleaded for.

Everything expect Gustave.

Christine loved her son: but she knew in her heart that she had not been old enough to have a child. She still felt that she was not prepared for such a task.

It was horrendous, she knew, for a mother to wish that their child had never been born, but would it not have been better for Gustave to have been born later? Or not at all? The child's life was miserable though he did not realize it.

What if his true father wished to go to court for custody?

What if the world discovered the truth?

What if Raoul turned bitter towards the child?

Christine had cursed her child to a horrid fate.

"Child of the wilderness." Christine spoke softly, trying to fall asleep through Raoul's shouting in the other room, "born into emptiness. Learn to be lonely."

…

Christine was woken when a small hand touched her arm. She instantly opened her eyes to find darkness. She turned on the desk lamp and turned to her awakener.

"Mama...please, I'm scared." Gustave whimpered, his large grey eyes seeming to plead for shelter. "I had a nightmare...and it's thundering outside..."

"It's...it's alright, darling." Christine said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as a crash a lightning lit up there room.

"Can...can I sleep with you?" Gustave ask before hiding his face as another bolt of lightning struck.

"Of course you may." Christine said as she gently picked up her young son and placed him on her lap.

Christine held him close, her arms wrapping around his entire body. His hand clutched onto the top of her night gown, his grip becoming tighter and tighter with each crack of thunder and lightning. Christine like lightning and thunder no better than her son but for his sake, she remained calm.

"Mama," Gustave said between thunder crashes. "I had a nightmare."

"You did darling?" Christine said, fearfully. She had been having nightmares as well, most involving The Phantom taking advantage of her and then killing Gustave, "what were they about?"

"Well...I have been having nightmares all week." Gustave admitted. "The first was of someone mad drowning me. The second, I was bleeding and all I could hear was laughter. The next, I felt sleepy as if I never wanted to wake up. And tonight's, I was being strangled. I...I was so scared. I don't want to think about these dark things: but they come to me and it's impossible to make them go away!"

"Gustave." Christine did not know what to say. "They're...they're just dreams. They can not hurt you. But...dreaming of dying...well it means...it means you are really sad."

The truth of the matter was that dreaming of yourself dying meant a sign of depression. Christine herself had experienced many dreams of herself dying while she was heavy with Gustave. She was depressed during that time and it was a slow process to get rid of it. In her mind, she was still not completely healed of the events of her life nor did she think that she would ever truly recover.

But a young child dreaming of death? How horrid. What pain must her child be in to be dreaming of such things?

"Gustave, are you happy? Generally, are you happy?"

"I...I guess."

"Gustave, do not lie to me."

Gustave was silent. Christine saw such sadness in his eyes: much like the sadness in the eyes in his father.

"I want...I want to be just like everybody else." Gustave said, tears falling down his face. "I am tired of being weak. I want to be able to-to play outside. I am tired of feeling so helpless. I want to be able to make friends. I am tired of feeling like I am trapped in a cage."

Trapped in a cage. Is that how her son felt? Was Christine truly caging her child? Her old lover had been locked in a cage when he was young and she had hated the people who had inflicted that fate on him. Had she been inflicting the same fate onto his child?

"I just...I just want to be normal." Gustave said, crying harder. "Why was I born this way... Father doesn't want me. I know you do not want me either... No one wants a monst..."

"Don't you dare call yourself that word." Christine demanded. "Your father and I love you: why would you think otherwise? Haven't we always cares for you?"

"That's the problem." Gustave sobbed harder, burying his head into his mother's gown. "I am just an unwanted child. Father said so."

"Of course he didn't. Your father loves you."

"No...no he does not." Gustave said, tears still flowing down his cheeks but his sobbing stopped: as if he had accepted his dreary fate, "I heard him yelling tonight. He said that I was unwanted: that you didn't want me. But you were stuck with me...that I'm the reason you and father have been miserable."

"Gustave." This was breaking Christine's heart. "That isn't true. Raoul is just angry with me...not you. Your father loves you. I love you."

I could tell that Gustave was not fully believing my words. I gently kissed his forehead, hoping that he felt my love for him.

"I'm frightened, mama." Gustave said, snuggling into her lap. "When will I be able to be normal? I want to go outside and play just like everyone else. When can I be free?"

"I...I don't know, darling," Christine said.

"Do you think I will be able to ride the merry-go-round tomorrow?" Gustave asked, before coughing.

"We can try, Gustave." Christine said. "I did promise you that you would ride it. I thought for sure Raoul would have taken you on it…"

Christine and Gustave remained quiet after that and soon fell asleep in each other's embrace. Raoul soon calmed down and came back to the room to find Christine and Gustave fast asleep and snuggled together.

Raoul felt the jealousy creeping back into his heart. He had always thought that he had won Christine from that Phantom. Apparently not. That monster was the one who fathered her child, not himself. His poor Christine.

His poor Gustave.

…

Erik was an emotional wreck. He couldn't believe that he had gone back on his threat. He also couldn't believe that Christine had kissed him...twice. His lips still tingled with their kiss.

And his son. Oh his little Gustave.

"Christine…" Erik moaned. "Gustave…"

"You let her go, didn't you?" Nadir said.

Erik groaned once more.

"You need to stop this." Nadir said. "You love this girl and yet you keep messing it up."

"She hates me." Erik said.

"You are so foolish." Nadir said. "I have spent the entire week with her. She speaks of you fondly. What is it that you want from her?"

"For her to not despise me." Erik said.

"And of your son?"

"Same thing really."

Erik finished writing what he had been working on and sealed it within a letter.

"What is that?" Nadir said.

"An apology letter." Erik said, gloomily. "As well as five hundred dollars. If I cannot be with my Christine and Gustave, at least I should care for them."

Nadir looked at the man in shock.

"You...you will be sending them money?" Nadir said.

"Once a month." Erik said. "I have set aside a portion of my profits to send to them each month. Raoul is going bankrupt. If he loses his wealth, so does that my Christine. And my Gustave. Despite what Giry believes, I do love Christine. I do not just want her back in bed with me."

Nadir gawked at Erik for a moment.

"That is...is very mature of you." Nadir said.

"When am I not mature?" Erik said. "I love them. I will do anything for them."

…

Erik was in his office early the morning of Christine's American debut. Darius was close by in his office though he should not have arrived for several more hours. It was one of the things that made Erik tolerate, even enjoy, Darius: he was always working on something.

"How dare you!" Raoul yelled, looking murderous.

Raoul's screams were so loud that it caught the attention of a certain man only a few doors down: a man with the access to secret tunnels throughout the building.

The Phantom, not like being taken by surprise, instinctively reached for the knife he carried in his pocket.

"So we meet again, Viscomte." The Phantom said this calmly: as if to pretend that he was in control of the entire situation. "How long did it take you before realizing I was the one who paid for your wife's services?"

"My wife's services indeed." Raoul said with fury. "You didn't so much as pay a franc to my Christine for what you forced on her."

"Ah and what would that be?"

"You forced a child onto her." Raoul spat.

On the exterior, Erik remained relaxed and unfazed. But a few could tell just by his breathing that he was growing furious at this confrontation.

"Forced you say?" Erik said, his voice as calming as the sounds of a summer sea.

"Yes." Raoul growled. "You...you took advantage of her the night before our wedding. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else winning so you took my Christine and-and..."

"Raped her?" Erik finished Raoul's dark thought.

"So you admit it!" Raoul said this as if he had one. "You admit that you took her. You horrendous monster!"

"I never took advantage of Christine," Erik said, a twisted smile forming on his lips. "Why would you accuse me of such a thing?"

"Christine told me." Raoul said. "She told me everything. How you took advantage of her the night before our wedding, how you left her defenseless and of the child she was forced to conceive because of you. She cried herself to sleep tonight: something she hadn't done for years. I never understood why she cried when she learned she was heavy with a child: but now I do."

"Christine told you all of this?" Erik asked, deciding to have a little fun with the foolish boy.

"Yes." Raoul said. "She also said that she would have told me sooner but she was afraid of me abandoning her as you did."

"Well I hate to inform you of your error," Erik said, his pain of losing Christine and Gustave beginning to show in a form of making Raoul suffer, "but you are mistaken. I never forced myself onto my angel."

"Don't lie, devil's child." Raoul sneered Erik's cruel nickname he had received as a child, "Christine told me."

"Did she ever actually say that I took advantage of her?" Erik said, pointing out the facts.

"No." Raoul said. "She was too horrified at the deed to utter it's name."

"Ah yes of course," Erik said. "Sweet, little, doe eyed Christine is far too innocent to utter the name of such a horrendous act. But he seemed to have told you a lot. Did she tell you of the pain she felt? How her lips grew swollen from my kisses? The bruises and love bites she received?"

Erik stepped closer, whispering into Raoul's ear.

"How much pleasure she felt during our night together?" Erik mocked.

"She didn't feel any pleasure!" Raoul yelled. "She was a frightened young girl..."

" Hm...did she tell you how frightened she was?" Erik once again pointed out. "Did she say how she tried to fight me off the best that she could before I wounded her enough to keep her down? She surely must have told you elaborate stories of how I chained her wrists to a wall and blindfolded her so each touch was unexpected. There was no way that she left out how she trembled beneath me as she uttered these words in desperation: please...stop...have mercy..."

"Stop!" Raoul said, unable to take the psychological torture.

"Surely you must have heard this before." Erik said. "How else would you know that Christine did not wish for my kisses."

"Christine is an angel." Raoul said. "She wouldn't go to you and give herself to you."

"You think so, you really think so." Erik sneered. "You do not sound so sure. What proof do you have if she did not explain what took place?"

"Gustave: he's your son." Raoul declared. "And the only way for you to have a child with Christine was for you to...to..."

"There is another possibility."

"She wouldn't."

"Ah but she would." Erik said, "even you cannot deny the passion and lust in her eyes the night of Don Juan."

"You had her under a spell!"

"I am a genius: not a sorcerer." Erin corrected. "Has it ever occurred to you that Christine may not be as innocent as you think she is?"

Raoul fell silent.

"You believe that she is incapable to feel the desire of wanting another human's company?" Erik sneered. "That she does not have seemingly animalistic urges? She is too innocent, you say. She would never go and fulfill her desires. She would not even think about committing such a heinous act. Especially not with a deformed monster such as myself."

"She would never..."

"Never sneak out the night before her wedding?" Erik continued. "Never track down a murderer in order to say goodbye? Never get so caught up in emotion and attraction that she would lead him his a creaky old bed? Never allow a monster to lay with her and know her as a husband would a wife? Never beg a demon to give her pleasure again-and again-and again?"

"You lie!" Raoul screamed ballistically.

"Of course I am a liar." Erik said, sarcastically. "Christine is far too innocent to enjoy a deformed freak laying on top of..."

"Stop!" Raoul demanded.

"Surely you understand what has to occur for me to conceive a child with my angel." Erik said, loving the emotional pain he was inflicting, "and oh was it wonderful. Christine is a beautiful young lady."

"She would never..." Raoul said, seeming to break.

"But she did." Erik said boldly declaring the hidden affair between him and his beloved Christine. "We did. As you can see, we started a little family together that night."

"Stay away from Gustave." Raoul said, trying to regain his courage.

"Do not fear, foolish viscomte." Erik said, a twinge of sadness in his voice. "I will no longer come anywhere near the boy or my Christine. Not after tonight."

"I can hardly believe that."

"I do not except you to." Erik said, "but you will surely be pleased when the news is released tomorrow morning."

"And what would that 'news' be?" Raoul asked, slightly fearing the answer.

"The suicide of Mr. Y." Erik stated. "I will hear my angel sing tonight and then tomorrow morning..."

Erik pulled the gun from his pocket and began looking it over.

"I will be out of her life forever."

"Good." Was what Raoul said.

"It seems you agree with my plan." Erik said, reaching in his pocket once more,"but in order for me to go through with the ordeal, I must ask a few favors of you."

"You are not getting my wife." Raoul firmly said.

"I would not force myself onto her." Erik said. "I never did and never will. I was merely teasing you and your wild imagination."

"You have a disgusting sense of humor." Raoul said.

Erik laughed a bit, but his menacing voice just made Raoul more nervous.

"I need you to not tell Christine of my plans." Erik stated. "She will try to stop me."

"A creature as disgusting and deformed and twisted as you doesn't deserve her pity." Raoul said. "So I will comply. And what else do you ask?"

"That you take this."

Erik pulled an envelope and a wrapped package out of his coat pocket and handed them to Raoul.

"What is this?"

"The package is a copy of a book Gustave mentioned he wanted." Erik explained. "I translated it to French so that he is able to read it."

"And the other?"

"My will." Erik said. "On it declares that everything on this island belongs to Gustave...as well as the wealth may be used by his maternal guardian until he reaches legal age."

"All of this...will be his?" Raoul said, shocked at the idea.

"Despite what you believe about me, ignorant boy," Erik made things crystal clear, "I care deeply for my son and the woman who cared for him all of his life. He is my heir and he shall inherit everything I own. Now leave and go comfort my...your Christine. I never want her to be alone ever again. If you treat her poorly, treat her as if she is anything less than a goddess, my ghost will torment you.."

Raoul did not know how to take this information and was rather frightened by it. He rather believed that Erik did have that sort of power within him. Fearing the man once more, he did what he was told and decided to leave.

"Wait." Erik called to him. "One more thing. Gustave is to never know the truth of his true father. No punishment that awaits me in Hell can compare to the pain that I would feel to ever learn that my child learned of his disgraceful lineage."

Raoul nodded in understanding and quickly left the office, more confused than he had ever been. Could Erik (the name madame giry had called him) actually care for his son? Was it even possible? Raoul had seen him murder in cold blood and cause Christine emotional and physical pain. He thought he understood the murderous Phantom. But he did not. Raoul had seen the most human sides of the man. Raoul knew of his childhood trapped in a cage like an animal, a past that Christine knew nothing of fore he had never told her. As well as the act of killing himself to never harm her or Gustave ever again. Not to mention the wealth that would be acquired…

Could he be...human?

He needed a drink...

…

The bar stood at the end of the pier of the hotel, Coney Island within sight. While it was early in the morning, it was open though there didn't seem to be anyone in it. Raoul decided to go in for a drink before returning to the hotel.

"Just give me something strong." Raoul told the bartender.

He gave him a flask of something (Raoul wasn't sure what it was) but he didn't drink it. He just swirled it around a bit, contemplating everything.

He then noticed someone crying in the corner. It was Meg, her head against the table littered with empty glasses. Raoul gave a small sigh and walked over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes red a puffy.

"Monsieur?" She said, a bit dazed and with a hiccup.

"Miss Giry," Raoul said kindly. "You are too much of a lady to be in a place like this."

"And you're too much of a high brow to be here." Meg retorted.

"It seems we're both in a place we don't belong."

"You don't know me, Monsieur. Six years changes a lot about a person"

"Time doesn't change you that much."

"Maybe not, but the world certainly does."

"Only if you allow it."

"You don't know too much about America do you?"

"I hear it's the land of opportunities."

"Yeah they do tend to put that on the post cards which are just sheets of paper. Hardly anything strong."

"However, it appears that you are strong. You've made a living for yourself in a savage country. Quite admirable."

He placed the drink next to her and placed some change on her table.

"You'll be alright." Raoul assured her. "You always were the dancer to get right back up again when Carlotta tripped you. And you usually did it with a bit of flare and grace. Until this evening, Miss Giry."

Meg gave him a hopeful smile and Raoul left the bar only to have Darius come through the door as he left.


	13. Chapter 13: The spade, heart and Diamond

Chapter 13: Before the Performance

It was the evening of the performance. Last minute preparations were in place and stage hands and performers scurried around the theater like rats. Erik rather enjoyed watching the chaos but soon grew tired of the fiasco and retired to his office for the remaining hours before he would hear his angel sing once more.

"Erik." Madame Giry said, comming into his office.

"I'm assuming everything is running smoothly down stairs?" Erik said, not even turning towards her.

"For the most part." Giry said, "It's a madhouse down there."

"Sounds like it."

Silence.

"Was there something you needed from me," Erik said, irritated, "or are you just going to continue standing there. I would have hoped you would have learned your lesson about interrupting me without a good reason."

"I wanted to apologize." Giry said, her voice no longer shrill, even approaching affectionate.

"For what in particular?"

"Pestering you." Giry put bluntly but there was a shred on humor in her voice. "Sometimes I still look at you and see that frightened boy locked in a cage. I forget that you're a grown man who makes his own decisions, though most of which I don't agree with."

"In your defense, I have been told that I am not easy to get along with nor do I make the best decisions."

"I know about Gustave."

The Phantom stopped writing. Everything stilled.

"He's your son."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"He has your eyes." Her voice was now compassionate. "Not to mention the way you act around him. If it was Raoul's son, you wouldn't have given him a second glance."

"It seems you are much more brighter than Raoul. It seems this clearly obvious information has been evading him somehow. But I have to wonder, now that you know, what do you intend to do with this information."

"I'm more curious to see what you do with this information."

"After a week with him, I have determined that he's the most beautiful and perfect creature to ever grace the earth."

"All parents think that about their children."

"Not all of them"

Giry bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"I understood your intention." Erik assured her, not angry about her verbal mishap. "I accepted my unfortunate past a long time ago though I am certain I will never truly move past it. But I guess I shouldn't be too hard on the woman who gave me life. At least she was there. I had been the one that decided to leave, not her."

Giry sat down on the seat beside him though she dared not touch him.

"Speaking as a parent, I've made a lot of mistakes." Giry said, rather ashamed but empowered all the same. "I've put Meg through so much, not always putting her first though that should have always been my priority."

"You didn't leave your child defenseless and alone."

"Neither did you. I'm assuming you knew or at least expected Christine was carrying your son when you let her go. It was a wise decision for her and him. While you may look at it as abandonment, you forced her to make the right choice for herself and her son. You didn't abandon them."

"I should have at least asked her what she wanted…"

"You know what she wanted: she wanted music and passion, both of which you could have provided tenfold. But what she needed was a roof over her head, extensive care and security. You couldn't give them that back then and now…"

"It's too late."

"I'm glad you've accepted that. It's painful, but you made the right decision."

Giry attempted to place her hand on his shoulder but he flinched away at the contact and gave her a glare, his silver eyes looking deadly.

In his coldness, she saw a wrapped box with a rose on top of it. Her tenderness faded.

"You're still pursuing her." She declared, furious, standing up. "After everything, everything that proved to you that you can't have her, you are still trying to seduce her."

She turned around and headed towards the door.

"Every time I think you're human…" was her final words as she left the office.

…

"You can't be serious." Nadir said as he followed Erik up the stairs, his underground lair fading from view.

"I am dead serious." Erik said, picking up his pace to escape the pesky Persian, "as of tonight, you will run Phantazma."

"I don't believe you."

Erik groaned.

"I don't have time for your nonsense," Erik said, "I must get to my box before anyone else is in the theater...I can't risk another photo being taken."

"But why?" Nadir asked, needing answers. "You have never shown any hatred for this place, and you certainly are not ill and you are far too young to go into retirement."

"I have been called many things," Erik said, "but never young."

"Stop avoiding the question." Nadir finally caught up to the evasive Phantom and grabbed hold of his coat sleeve. "Why?"

"You will soon learn."

"Erik, turn out your pockets." Nadir said, fearing the worst.

"Why on earth would you want that." Erik said as if he had nothing to hide.

"Because I can see the outline of a gun." Nadir said. "You never carry a weapon. Why now?"

"Extra protection." Erik said, calmly.

"Erik, you can't fool me." Nadir said, "You can't do what I think you are planning on doing."

"And what would that be?"

"Suicide." Nadir said the taboo word. "You've tried several times and each time I've talked you out of it. Why?"

"I cannot go on." Erik said simply, as if he was commenting on the weather. "I will die of a broken heart anyways: why prolong the pain?"

"What of Christine?" Nadir said, trying to reason with him, "What of your child? Are you just going to abandon them?"

"I am not abandoning them." Erik said, "I am doing this for them. Every time I am around Christine, I hurt her: whether physically or emotionally. I...I feel horrid. The thought of my hands hurting my darling Christine. That night in the lair, when I threatened the fop, I almost strangled Christine to death: without even realizing it. I didn't mean to hurt her that night. What if I hurt my child? I would never forgive myself."

"And that is a reason to kill yourself?"

"I have to protect them." Erik declared "If I remain alive...I will never stop pursuing them. I will fight until I have them, no matter who gets hurt in the process: no matter how much I hurt them in the process. I cannot do that to them…"

"It is a sin to murder oneself." Nadir said, "It is a sin that you cannot be forgiven of."

Nadir reached into Erik's pocket and pulled out the gun.

"But it is not a sin for a mercy kill…" Nadir said, filled with sorrow. "After tonight...after hearing her sing...if you are heartbroken and unable to move on...I'll…"

"Put me out of my misery?"

"Yes."

"Agreed." Erik said, somewhat relieved.

"I would hope that it wouldn't come to it." Nadir said. "Knowing you, you will hear her voice and wish to live once more."

"I would not count on it, my old friend."

"Mr. Erik, you called?" Darius said, his white outfit back on, prepared to do the show downstairs.

"Yes," The Phantom turned towards him. "The police should be arriving shortly and I want you to greet them. Tell them to be stationed at every entrance: there have been a string of robberies lately within the park and I will not tolerate it."

"He's also concerned about the safety of the Prima Donna." Nadir added, though Darius didn't even turn towards him while he was speaking.

"She is a very talented artist, Daroga." The Phantom said with a sideways glare. "I wouldn't want her to be mobbed by the American scum."

"Couldn' say it better myself." Darius responded.

"Arm yourself and some of the more trustworthy stage hands if you think it's necessary." The Phantom continued, "There are some guns in a few locked draws in the manager's office downstairs. But if anyone who isn't sober gets ahold of one, you'll be out of a job Darius."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And once more he was gone.

"I'd better be going." Nadir said, fixing his suit. "I wouldn't want to miss Madame de Changy's performance. I've never heard her sing before and I want to see what mad you go raving mad for her."

"Just a moment." Erik called him back, "Can you do something for me?"

"I don't really have a choice."

"You really don't." Erik agreed. "I need you to give this to Christine. She should be in her dressing room. I want to give it to her for her performance and as a parting gift...but I don't think I'm strong enough to face her."

"I will gladly obliged."


	14. Chapter 14: The Performance

Chapter 14: The Performance

Christine was sitting in her dressing room, a red rose in her hand and her fingers playing with the ribbon on the white box that Nadir had brought her from Erik. She had been contemplating opening the box for some time. No doubt it was something extravagant and beautiful: his gifts always were.

There was a knock on her dressing room door. She hastily hid the gifts before unlocking the door.

"You-you look absolutely beautiful." Raoul stammered, looking at her beautiful blue dress. "You're beautiful Christine."

"Raoul…"

The two embraced.

"I'm so sorry about leaving you last night." Raoul said, holding her tightly. "I just-I just needed some time to think. This doesn't justify my actions though. Could you forgive me?"

"Of course."

She gave him another squeeze before they let go.

"These are for you, Madame de Chagny." Raoul said, presenting her the bouquet of pink roses. "A little good luck present."

He planted a kiss on her forehead.

"You're going to be wonderful, sweetheart." He whispered lovingly. "I want to stay longer, but Gustave is already in his seat. He's so looking forward to hearing you sing. I've never seen him smile so much."

With one final kiss planted on her cheek, he left.

Christine stared at the box. Her curiosity finally took over and she opened the neatly wrapped box.

Inside was a beautiful blue and black necklace, one that would perfectly match her dress. She took a moment to register how beautiful it was: he truly had spared no expense. No doubt it was made from real, precious gemstones and crafted by the finest hands in the country. She carefully picked it up and placed it around her neck. If it had been pretty by itself, she looked breathtaking with it on. The darker tones stood out so brightly against her porcelain flesh.

She had been so mesmerized by the jewels that she nearly overlooked the little piece of golden lined paper that had fallen out of the parchment paper.

She gingerly picked up the beautifully written note.

Madame Christine de Chagny,

You brought me light when I lived in darkness. You listened when no one else would. You were the only one brave enough to show me affection, no matter how poorly placed it was. On this night, I know you will bring me light once more. The angels will truly weap.

Au revoir,

Your teacher

It was a simple note. It never said the words 'I love you' or even had his name, but she understood it all the same.

"Five minutes,

She took a deep breath, and left her dressing room

...

Christine was standing in the wings by herself. She was waiting for her cue. She had not seen the Phantom all day but she knew that he was watching her now. He was always watching.

Her heart was racing despite everything telling her that it would be fine. Her voice was warmed up, she knew the song like the back of her hand. Gustave was safe with Raoul and they were both anxious to hear her sing.

Why was she so nervous? She had performed so many times before.

No. It wasn't stage fright.

It was because she was performing for him: her old lover.

She would sing for him tonight: one last time for him. And then they would never see each other again. Christine couldn't decide whether it was a good or bad thing that they were saying goodbye. He had done so many horrid things to her and others...but he had also been kind to her.

She remembered when she was young and alone: he was there. He was almost like a father to her. When she believed him to be dead, so many times had she prayed for her angel to come back. How cruel fate was… the thing she had prayed for so long for was her's for a week and would soon be gone. And she didn't even appreciate it.

She was about to go find him so that she could tell him how much he meant to her, but the stage manager came up to her.

"You're on Miss Daae." the man said, pushing her from behind onto the stage.

She took a deep breath and didn't breath out until the curtain had risen.

The beginning of the song began to play. She silently prayed that the opening would last longer. As the intro drew to a close, Christine caught sight of her angel: sitting in the box directly in the middle of the stage, in the back of the theater. She couldn't see his face: she had no idea what he was thinking. But instead of shrinking beneath the pressure, She stood up straighter. She was no longer the helpless little orphan in the opera house: she would no longer be intimidated by the Phantom of the Opera.

She opened her mouth and began to sing.

"Who knows when love begins," She sang, "Who knows what makes it start…"

She felt as if she was ascending into heaven. Though she had no idea what she was saying, because the song had english lyrics, she knew that it was powerful and about love. She found herself staring at her angel as she sang. The crowd faded from view: he was the only one she saw. He was the only one there.

She was as happy as the day she first performed in Hannibal. Oh to be singing again. Why did she ever give it up? The attachment she had with her voice...with his voice as well...was something that she could not just hide away. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel. She remembered the bible verse from Matthew and realized that she had not been following His council. She had been hiding.

She would hide no longer.

As her song drew to a close, she decided on a few things. For starter, she would be singing from now on. She would return to the rebuilt Paris Opera House and become the diva once more. She was far too young to stop dreaming. Then the more important matter: her angel. She could no longer shun him as the world did...as she had done. He was a part of her: he was the one who lit the flame within her. While all hopes of romance had fallen, she wished to remain in contact with him. She would treat him as any successful student would treat their teacher and she hoped that he would be happy with that.

Christine felt elated and beautiful as she stepped off of the stage after finishing her aria. Her mind was only on finding her angel. She had to tell him how grateful she was too him: she owed him that much.

She hastily made her way over to her dressing room, ignoring the cheers of the workers who loved her performance.

Once in her dressing room, she was shocked to find that her angel was already there.

"Christine." The Phantom said, looking fearful and ashamed "I know I promised I would never bother you again...but after hearing you sing…

The two locked eyes. Tears made his silver eyes glimmer brighter than they usually did, making her feel weak in the knees.

"Oh Christine you gave me such a triumph tonight: I just had to tell you that in person." He continued, his voice making the words he spoke sound like poetry. "Not through an ominous note, or through one of my workers or even through the walls of your dressing room: I had to tell you in the flesh. Your voice is like candlelight on water; like the brightest star in the murky, dark night sky; a healthy, plump, white rose amongst dying and deadly thorns and weeds. Your voice is my heaven. You are my heaven."

"Angel…" Christine said, not knowing what to say to his poetic words.

"Please, Christine." He said, looking up at her, giving her full view of his stormy and bright grey eyes, "I am no angel: you are the angel. You always have...you always will be. You always thought that I was your guardian angel...but it was always the opposite. You were the one who protected me and you never realized it. I was just as lost as you were, if not more, when we met. I thought that God hated me or that He did not exist at all. Then you came...oh Christine…you have no idea how much you have changed my life: you are my life."

"Do...do you believe in God?"

"I have told you before, Christine." the masked man said, "You proved to me that God did exist. No human could create someone as beautiful or as kind as yourself: you had to be divine. I know that He hates me: I am a demon."

"You are not a demon." Christine said, placing her hand against his cheek. "And I am no angel. We are both human."

Christine, being so caught up in the moment, rushed into his arms, holding him close. He was hesitant at first, unsure of how to react to the hug, but he soon gave in and cradled her body against his.

"Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God." He whispered into her ear, holding her in a tight and desperate embrace, as if his salvation depended on holding onto her. "You are pure of heart, Christine. No one has ever called me human before…"

Christine embraced him with the same amount of desire, as if they were two long lost family members, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

His head buried itself in her shoulder,

He was holding her in my arms. The world was perfect now: he was ascending into heaven while hearing hearing voice and now he had arrived. He was tasting all of the happiness the world has to offer.

"You must know Christine…" He whispered into her hair. "I was planning on killing myself tonight."

"You...you were…" Christine said, fear taking hold of her heart. She had always suspected that he wished to end his own life...but he had never admitted it before. "Do you still wish to?"

"No...I know now that it is necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live." Erik said, his thumb wiping the tears off of her cheeks, "You do not have to worry about me."

"What will you do when we have to say goodbye?"

"I will be smiling when we say goodbye, Christine. I will be crying as I watch you leave, but my heart is so full of joy that it will remain so for the rest of my life. I love you, Christine."

"I care for you as well," Christine said, unable to say the word 'love' though she longed too, "I will never forget you. I've tried forgetting...I've tried keeping you out of my life, but that was a fool's errand. I wish to stay in contact with you: I do not wish to just leave you behind. Would you allow me to write you? As a student would to her old teacher."

"Not being able to hear from you was the hardest part of these last six years," He said, bitter-sweet, "if a letter from you is all I may receive, I will gratefully take it. And if Gustave were to write me once… I'd never be happier. Though I believe that it is in both of our interests that we never see one another face to face again."

"We will see…" Christine said, "Fate might bring us together once more. If there is one thing I have learned about life is that it never goes as planned."

Christine was in heavenly bliss in her teacher's arms. She felt happier than she had ever been in years: happier than she had ever been in her entire life.

However, she would soon learn how how right she was about fate never following the plans she had made.


	15. Chapter 15: Not Her

Chapter 15: Not Her

Erik held onto his angel. At this point he was so desperate he would take anything that he could get from her: a simple hug sent him over the edge with happiness. As well that she wished to write to him once she returned. And maybe in time he could write to his son.

Yes. He would stay alive. He must. No matter how lonely the nights got, no matter how long the days became, he would wish to live.

Once more Christine had saved him.

However, Raoul was not as pleased with Erik and Christine's embrace as they were.

"Christine?" Raoul said, his heart dropping into his stomach at the sight of the two lost lovers.

"Raoul." Christine said, still keeping her arms around Erik's neck. "I...I...I.."

Erik couldn't help but give Raoul a smug look of victory and, for good measure, held Christine a little tighter.

"We'll talk about this later." Raoul said, trying to rid himself of the hurt of finding his wife embracing another with much passion, "for now, Erik please remove yourself from my wife."

Erik glared at Raoul but did as he was told but not before he planted a kiss on Christine cheek which made both Christine's and Raoul's cheeks flushed red.

"Raoul..." Christine said, looking at her husband about to say something but changing her mind, "where...where's Gustave?"

" Gustave?" Raoul said, "I...he wasn't in here when I came to pick him up. I've been looking for him all over..."

"What?!" Erik said, his voice rising. "You insolent boy! You lost him?"

"I didn't lose him." Raoul said, growing angry as well. "And what about you? Aren't you supposed to a this omnipotent being who knows everything: including the whereabouts of YOUR son?"

The Phantom made his way over to Raoul to strangle him.

"Teacher, calm down." Christine said, placing a hand on Erik's chest, holding him back in a way? "He's probably just somewhere backstage."

"No...you don't understand." The Phantom said, clenching his fists in order to keep himself from wrapping his hands around Raoul's neck, "I have enemies. Enemies that would just love to get their hands around my son's neck!"

"Who...who would want to hurt a child?" Christine asked, beginning to fear.

"Madame Giry." The Phantom growled, "that wretch has been on me the entire time for not allowing her daughter to perform Christine's song. And that comment she made before Christine performed...she must have planned to kidnap the child while I was listening to Christine."

"Surely she wouldn't." Raoul said. "He...he may be yours but he is also Christine's. Christine has been like a daughter to her. She would never..."

"You don't know how murderers work, viscomte." The Phantom said through his teeth, "while you may look at Gustave and see Christine...but an angry murderer would only see the spawn of a devil. Nadir!"

Within a few moments, the out of breath Persian man was by their sides.

"Yes, Erik?" The Persian said, "if this is about putting you out of your misery I am not going to do it in front of a lady."

"No, this isn't about that." The Phantom said. "I need you to find Giry and bring her to me now. I have to tear her limbs off one by one!"

"What has she done this time?" Nadir said, thinking it something trivial.

"Gustave is missing," Erik said, his voice furious, "and Giry has it in for me."

"And you think Madame Giry took him?" Nadir said, holding the bridge of his nose in his fingers, "the woman was practically your mother: she would never harm the child."

"Well my real mother certainly would." The Phantom said, "why not Giry? It is not your position to argue with me: go go find her. Now!"

"Fine." Nadir said, "I'll find her."

"Quickly!"

Nadir sped off and quickly returned with Giry, dragging her by the arm.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Giry bellowed towards the Phantom, "how dare you send the Persian to man handle me in such a way!"

"The boy, woman!" The Phantom said, grabbing Giry by the arms and roughly handling her, "what have you done with him?!"

"The boy...you think I took the boy." Giry almost laughed, "you think I would harm your little bastard child?"

This just made the Phantom more furious.

"Call him that again and I will hang you from the rafters!" The Phantom yelled so loud that Christine's knees began to buckle, "now I will ask you again: where is my child?!"

"How should I know." Giry said, her words filled with cruelty, "he's your son: I am done being kind to you. All of these years, Meg and I treated you like family. And how do we get paid? With that little mistake receiving all of your love and wealth. Don't think that it took me long to realize what you had done with Christine. From the moment I looked at the boy it was clear that he was yours."

Giry turned towards Christine.

"And you, girl, are a disgrace." Giry spat, "you have two gentlemen after you while Meg is scraping at the bottom of the barrel. And instead of remaining faithful, you go and give yourself to another man. I am ashamed to have ever called yourself my daughter."

"Madame..." Christine pleaded, her heart breaking. Raoul wrapped his arm around her in comfort.

"Your quarrel is with me, woman." The Phantom shouted. "Not with her or her child. Now where is he?!"

"I don't know." Giry said. "I haven't touched the child."

"I don't believe you."

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Giry said, her words cutting into the Phantom's heart like a dagger, "to know that somewhere your child is hurting and you are unable to do anything about it? It's painful isn't it."

"You have no idea, you despicable woman, how much it is tearing me apart."

"I don't?" Giry snorted, "you don't think I felt the same pain watching my daughter give everything she had in order to try to please a man who wanted nothing to do with her? Oh Erik, we feel the same pain."

"Meg...Meg..." The Phantom repeated her name, the pieces of the puzzle falling in place, "Meg! She took him!"

"She would never." Giry said. "She knows better than to mess with you and your violent temper."

"Mr. Erik!" Darius said running up to the group. "I just came from Meg's dressing room: her mirror is completely shattered. I think she's in distress…"

"Oh she will be." The Phantom spat, his fists clenched. "Where do you think she's gone?"

"She usually hangs around the bar on the far side of the island."

"That's too far…" The Phantom said, pacing for a moment before it clicked in his head. "The pier. That's where she is."

The Phantom raced towards the exit of the theater, everyone following suit.

"Why on earth would she be there?" Darius questioned, trying to talk him out of it.

"It a perfect place to dispose of a body."

Christine gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Erik chastised himself for being that blunt: no doubt it did not help Christine coup.

"Nadir, seal the ports." The Phantom said, clenching his fists. "Blockade each road. No one is to leave this isle until Gustave is safely in his mother's arms. And then contact the police and tell them to be here immediately. Now!"

Nadir scampered off, his heart pounding in his chest: he was starting to think that the Phantom was not overreacting.

"Meg would never..." Christine said placing her hand to her heart, tears beginning to fall, "she...she couldn't...my Gustave. My poor Gustave."

"I know where she is." The Phantom said frantically and unhinged, "but we have to hurry. Oh when I get my hands on her..."

The Phantom raced through the crowded streets of Coney with Christine right behind him, Giry behind her and Raoul behind her.

Upon exiting the theater, they were met with a rushing crowd of people. Erik grabbed Christine by the wrist and forced his way through the crowd while Raoul was left to fend for himself. By some miracle, Raoul was able to keep his eyes on the masked man and stay in the right direction.

Raoul was fearful: Gustave, the boy he had raised, was missing and possibly in great danger. It would be cruel for the child to die now after surviving all that he did. He had never spent much time with the boy and, if Erik was to be believed, he possible never would.

This thought of never seeing Gustave again made Raoul run a little faster.

…

Meg was dragging Gustave by the arm towards the pier of the island. Gustave was fighting: hitting, biting scratching and trying to grab onto the rails with his other hand.

But it was all in vain.

"Don't worry, little b." Meg said a word Gustave did not recognize, "it will all be over soon."

"Let me go." Gustave begged, trying to free himself, "I want my mama. Please."

"It's almost over." Meg said again, the edge of the pier only a foot away. "You'll be gone and he will finally notice me."

"Let go of the boy now!" The Phantom yelled as he approached the scene.

"Meg please." Christine pleaded.

"Don't do anything that you will regret." Giry said, knowing that Erik would kill her if she continued what she was doing.

"Gustave has done nothing wrong: He is innocent!" Raoul pleaded.

"Innocent?" Meg laughed, "You believe this boy is innocent? He has committed a great crime by just existing."

"Your quarrel is with me, not the boy." The Phantom demanded. "Now, I'm willing to make a deal: if you let him free, I won't snap your neck."

"I've always wondered how to get your attention." Meg said, pushing Gustave closer to the edge of the pier. "It appears that the only way to catch your eye is by sleeping in your bed, as Christine did, or by threatening what you desire the most. I wish I had known that sooner: it would have saved me a lot of pain. Well, now that you have graced me with your presence, you had better pay attention."

Erik was paying attention. He hated the girl and felt no pity for her, but he paid attention.

"I took a little trip to Coney Island because my mother said that you would make me famous if we gave you the chance." Meg started, her voice cracking with each word. "I tried to show you compassion because that's what my mother said you needed. I had to take care of you when you came home with your veins full of morphine. I dragged you home with you reeking of alcohol after you drank away your sorrows. I never got a thank you."

"Morphine?" Christine questioned, looking up at the Phantom.

"That was years ago." The Phantom said to both Christine and Meg, "And I thanked you by giving you a job: you should consider yourself lucky."

This was clearly not the right thing to say. Meg forcefully pushed Gustave further off the edge, his feet barely on the pier: the only thing keeping him from drowning was Meg's grip on his arm.

"Then, after those first few months, you went to work on Coney." Meg said. "You were back in the cage you were in as a child: being beaten and laughed at and tortured once more. I was the one who cleaned your wounds when you came home at night."

"You...you were kept in a cage as a child?" Christine asked, her heart going out for the poor, pitiful creature.

The Phantom didn't know what to say.

"And then, almost a year into our journey, you no longer wanted to live." Meg continued the dark story, "I would find you near dead in your room, bleeding out from the cuts on your wrists. I walked in on you trying to hang yourself from the kitchen light. And then finally, you bought that gun…"

"You...you tried to kill yourself?" Christine said, both growing angry at the man and feeling sympathy towards him.

Meg's hand slipped into her pocket and pulled out the gun that Nadir had put in the desk in the opera box.

"This gun. I had come to your room to call you for dinner and found this pressed to your temple." Meg said, sounding as unhinged as the Phantom had been the night of Don Juan. "I had to stop you. I fought you for that gun and succeeded but not before you gave me a black eye. After that, I had to watch you constantly to prevent you from harming yourself. I never slept because I was forced to keep an eye on you. Even as you slept, I was there watching you. You talk in your sleep...sing sometimes. But it was only one word: Christine. Christine. Always Christine. You didn't just say the name: you moaned it like it was giving you pleasure by just saying the name. It hurt me that you never said my name after everything I did to help you."

"You...you hit her?" Christine said, aghast, leaning on Raoul because she was feeling faint.

Christine's words had more of an emotional impact on him than Meg's. It was Christine's words that made him feel guilty.

"I...I did not mean to." The Phantom tried to reason, "I was not thinking…"

"Were you on the drug when you hit her?" Christine asked.

"No, I was going through withdrawals which put me in a depressive mood. I've been clean for five years."

"Only because we could no longer afford it for you." Meg shouted. "Then, my mother made you start working on the ideas for this park. You started with wanting to purchase the sideshow you were working in. It cost a fortune. While you and my mother worked at factories and at the docks, I decided to make myself useful and be friendly to the bankers and the entrepreneurs and the politicians and anyone else that could be of some use to you."

"You didn't." Christine said, knowing what the true meaning behind her words were.

"Sell myself to get Erik money for his little project?" Meg laughed, causing an unsettling chill to go through the air, "Yes I did. I thought that as soon as he bought that sideshow, it would be over. Oh boy I was wrong. There were permits needed, the press needed to be informed, deals needed to be past. Did you really think that those men just had a change of heart or actually cared about your small side show? Maybe if you would have been paying attention you would have noticed all the sacrifices I made for you. But no. You were too busy moaning and pinning about Christine. But now I see everything perfectly clear. You just want a warm body to snuggle into at night: someone to help get your mind off of things."

"Is...is that true?" Christine said to Erik, beginning to think once more that her so-called 'angel' was really a monster once more, "You were too busy obsessed with...with wanting my body again that you let Meg do all of those things? Was my body just a distraction to you?"

Christine buried herself in Raoul's arms.

"You've been used same as me Christine," Meg said, bitterly, "But I think you have the better end of the bargain. I'm doing this for both of us, Christine."

And with that, Meg pushed Gustave off of the ledge and watched him disappear beneath the midnight black, unforgiving ocean.


	16. Chapter 16: Come What May

Chapter 16: Come What May

Raoul's heart stopped as he watched Gustave fall over the edge of the pier into the dark, murky, rough and unforgiving water below. He was in such a state of shock that he couldn't even react. However, Erik reacted instantly. He threw off his coat and expertly dived into the sea.

Christine rushed to the edge of the pier. The only thing that snapped Raoul out of shock was when she began to remove her outer skirt as if she was preparing to join them. Raoul rushed beside her and held her before she could jump in with them.

"Gustave!" Christine screamed, trying to free herself from Raoul's grip.

"Christine…"

"Let go of me!"

"Christine! Don't…"

"I have to save him!"

"Drowning yourself to try to save him won't help anything!" Raoul said, gripping her arm a bit tighter than he wished.

Christine still looked on towards the ocean, her mind still on trying to save Gustave. Raoul held her in a tight embrace, part of it for comfort and the other part for was to keep her from jumping in after them.

"It's going to be alright." Raoul said, trying to convince himself, "Everything will be ok. Erik will save him."

Through Christine desperate and broken sobs, Raoul barely noticed Meg notching her gun into position. Open hearing the sound, Raoul looked up from his wife and at Meg. He saw that she had put the gun to her temple.

"No Meg!" Giry shouted, "Don't."

"No, no, no, no." Raoul said, gently untangling himself from his wife and walking over to Meg. "Meg, don't do this."

"Not a step closer!" She screamed.

"Meg, you are more than this." Raoul said, still holding Christine's hand. "I know that your life has been horrid...but you are worth diamonds."

Raoul had never thought he would be in a position that required him to convince a woman to not end her life. He also never thought that he would have to convince a woman he hated (currently more than he hated Erik even) to not take her life. But he knew that if he didn't try his hardest to stop her, it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Meg," Raoul began again, after thinking about what he wished to say, "I know you've been hurt by that man. You've been taken advantage of. You've been abused. You've been neglected. But you are unspeakably kind. To keep trying to befriend him, even when he treated you horridly: that is courageous."

Meg lowered the gun a little. Raoul made slow steps towards her, slowly letting go of Christine's hand.

"You have been robbed of love." Raoul said, "You deserve more than what you have received. But Meg, you can't find the love and happiness if you do this. Don't you want to be happy?"

"Yes…" Meg said quietly.

"Give me the gun." Raoul said, holding out his hand. "Just give me the gun, and you will be happy again. Just give me the gun, Meg."

His words seemed to be working. She was lowering her gun. Raoul meant nothing of what he was saying: in fact he would be pressing charges against her as soon as this was over. But it was more important to get the gun out of her hand so that she would not accidentally shoot someone else.

"Give me the gun, Meg." Raoul said, his voice sweet, much like the tone he uses when speaking with his wife.

His hand was on the gun, but so was Meg's hand.

"Everything will be alright." Raoul said. "Sometimes life isn't beautiful. But you are better than this. You deserve better than this. Beauty doesn't always get noticed, but it is no fault of your own. We can't all be like Christine…"

"Christine…"Meg said, "Christine. It's always about Christine!"

Raoul heard a gunshot.

His first thought was that the gun had pierced his own flesh. But he was wrong.

Christine fell to the floor, clutching her stomach.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, rushing towards her. "Giry! Get help! Please!"

Meg felt a twinge of remorse. But then she remembered how much pain the injured woman had inflicted on her by just existing. She was no longer able to feel empathy.

Giry grabbed Meg by the arm and dragged her away from the scene.

"Christine." Raoul said, holding Christine's stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Just-just hold on."

"Christine!" Erik said, climbing up the ladder from the pier with one arm fore the other was carrying a limp object: his voice was relieved, one could almost say happy, "I have him! He's breathing! He will be…"

It was at that point when Erik saw the blood seeping from Christine's body.

"Mama?" Gustave said, his voice quivering in fear.

"No…" Erik said, Gustave cradled in his arms: any joy he had felt from saving the child from drowning vanished in an instant. "What happened?"

"Meg…" Raoul said, his voice cracking. "She had this gun-she fired at Christine on accident. At least I think it was an accident…"

"Christine." Erik said, kneeling down beside her, Gustave still in his arm. "No...I will kill that Giry girl for what she has done!"

"Please…" Christine said faintly, staring at Gustave. "Gustave...I have something I need to tell you. Your father..."

"Christine no." Raoul began.

"Christine, you promised me." Erik pleaded. "Please…

Christine locked eyes with her angel. He could tell that she was in agony. She believed she was about to die: she wanted to confess her sins. But she would not die: he would not allow her to die.

"Christine," Raoul said, softly, "You-you're going to be alright. I'm going to take you to the hospital."

"It's not far." Erik assured, giving Raoul instructions."just over the bridge and down half a block to your right. About five minutes away."

"Hold on, Christine." Raoul whispered before turning to Erik.

"Erik." Raoul said. "Meg is still out there. I'm not sure if she still angry. But please: protect Gustave. I will get Christine to a hospital. You take care of the child."

"If she dies on your watch…"

"I will take full responsibility." Raoul said. "Just protect Gustave."

Erik gave a nod. Before Raoul could stop him, Erik planted a few kisses upon Christine's forehead. Raoul was too touched by the moment to get angry: this could be his goodbye.

"Hold on, Christine." He whispered. "I love you. I'll protect him: I swear this to you, I will protect him."

"Mama...please don't go…" Gustave said, his hands on hers.

Erik picked up the sobbing boy, giving Christine one last glance, before fleeing into the night.

The next morning, the headlines read:

Opera Diva Shot on Pier


	17. Chapter 17: Cadeau du Ciel

Chapter 17: Cadeau du Ciel

"Monsieur Erik…" The boy finally was able to say something the he could understand, though his tears. "I wan-I-I want...my-my-my mama…"

"I know." Erik said, understanding and trying to be comforting. "I know...but it's not safe for you out there. And I promised your mother I will protect you."

He used his thumb to wipe the boys tears from his cheek.

Gustave broke down into hysterics once more, burying himself into Erik's shoulder. The boy was trembling so hard. Despite wearing a thick beige coat, the boy was soaked to the skin and shivering from the cold.

"Come on, mon cadeau du ciel," Erik said, picking up the shivering boy, "Let's get you warmed up."

The makeshift bunker in the cellars of the unfinished part of the park was the closest thing Erik called home. He had built it with Christine in mind: if she had decided to belong to him he would have had them live here until the rest of the house could be built above ground. So while it was dark, musty and rather dreary, it was a bit homely here. While it was built on a romantic whim, he was glad that he had done it.

Christine...Christine...don't think about her. It hurt too much to think about her.

He quickly lit a fire in the fireplace, placing Gustave near the flames but not too close that he would get burned. He quickly went to the rather dreary restroom and grabbed a thick black towel. He heard Gustave cough and sneeze from the other room. The boy had been sick before being thrown into the bitter cold sea: no doubt he would get worse if he didn't act quickly.

Erik returned to his child's side.

"I'm going to dry you off, ok?" Erik said quietly. "I don't want that cold of yours to get worse."

Gustave gave a shaky nod, allowing Erik to remove his coat. Erik noticed that the coat was extremely heavy, even for having absorbed salt water. He reached into one of the pockets and pulled out a water damaged book.

He was about to throw it away but Gustave spoke up.

"Don't get rid of it!" Gustave pleaded.

"What is it?" Erik questioned, looking at the rubbish.

"It's-it's the book you made for me." Gustave hiccuped. "I-I didn't want to lose it-so-so I held onto it...please don't get rid of it…"

"Gustave, it's completely ruined." Erik said, but he was treating the damaged pages a bit more carefully now. "I will gladly make you another one. You don't have to hold onto it."

"But I want to…"

Erik sighed, knowing that he couldn't resist the boy no matter how little he made sense.

"Alright." Erik caved, placing the 'book' gently on the mantel. "It will dry right here but know that it will never be the same again. And as soon as you say the word, I'll make you another."

"Thank you…" Gustave sniffled before sneezing. "But you won't have to…"

Erik began drying off the boy with the towel, ruffling his sand filled hair. Truth be told, the boy needed a bath, but Erik was a bit repulsed about the prospect. The boy barely knew him and it seemed wrong to force him into a rather invading situation.

But something needed to be done.

"Gustave," Erik said, handing him an oversized dress shirt. "Go get changed into this in the washroom. Don't leave on any of your wet clothes, understood?"

The boy gave a nod and went into the small washroom that Erik was pointing to. After setting a pot of water boiling on the fireplace, Erik waited rather impatiently outside the door, tapping his foot. Surely it didn't take ten minutes to get dressed. Erik reached for the doorknob and found it locked.

"Gustave?" Erik asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." The boy called back.

"I'm coming in."

"No, dont!"

Erik was extremely pleased that he had zero sense of privacy because when he opened the door, he found that Gustave, still in his wet clothes, had unscrewed the screws in the vent in the room and was attempting to escape through it. Erik rolled his eyes as he watched the boy duck into the shaft.

"I admire you for trying." Erik grabbed his foot and pulled the boy out from the shaft, dust now clinging to his wet clothes. "But it was very foolish of you to try to escape me."

"I want to see my mom!" The boy cried. "And you won't take me to her!"

Erik had to admire the boy's grit and determination, but he was not in the mood for childish behavior.

"I told you," Erik said, showing his firm nature, "it is too dangerous for you to be out there, especially by yourself."

"But-but…"

"Don't talk back to me." Erik said, his temper flaring. "Like it or not boy, I am in charge. You will do as you're told. Do I make myself clear?"

Gustave gave a nod.

"Good, now get dressed."

Erik stood in the doorway as Gustave stripped off his wet clothes and put of the oversized shirt. The boy had lost any rights to privacy for trying to escape. Once the boy was covered, Erik picked him up and placed him back by the fireplace.

"I'm going to wash your hair, understood?" Erik said, feeling the temperature of the water in the pot on the fire.

The boy didn't really have a choice as Erik dipped another towel into the water and then ringing it out over Gustave's head. It didn't hurt, in fact the warm water felt great to Gustave. Giving the boy as much privacy that was possible, Erik washed the sand and chill from Gustave, leaving him clean and warm. After drying him off, taking extra time to dry the untamable curls, Erik gave him a dry shirt that had been hanging by the fireplace to put on, warming Gustave up even more. The final attempt at comfort was Erik placing a blanket around him, wrapping him up like a babe.

"You've been through so much tonight." Erik said, kneeling beside the boy, his long skeleton like fingers stroking his round cheeks. "I am so sorry for everything and I apologize for my behavior. But you must understand that I have to keep you safe."

"I-I know." Gustave whispered.

"I'm going to get dressed." Erik played with the boy's curls once more, loving the feeling of the soft, fluffy hair. "Just stay here and keep warm, alright?"

Gustave nodded.

Erik had never gotten dressed as quickly as he did that night. He couldn't leave Gustave alone for too long, worrying that the boy would try to escape once more or that someone would try to hurt him. But when he left the washroom, Gustave was sitting right where he had left him, just staring teary eyed into flames.

Erik was unsure of what to do. He had never been in charge of a child before, especially not one as young as Gustave. The boy looked absolutely tired. He needed rest.

Erik picked up the young boy and the two of them sat down in the large arm chair in the room, the one closest to the fire. Erik began reading to distract himself from his thoughts of Christine. It didn't work because every time the boy took a breath, he was reminded of her. Though, he wouldn't dare seperate himself from the boy.

"What are you reading?" Gustave asked timidly, feeling warm and secure under Erik's arm.

"The Count of Monte Cristo," Erik responded quietly, pulling the boy a bit closer to him.

"Your favorite."

"That is correct."

"Can-can you read it to me?"

"Of course."

While dark for a child, Erik turned to the beginning of the book and began to read. Gustave listened intently, clinging to every word his guardian uttered until his eyes closed and he began to snore softly.

"I love you," Erik whispered, closing his eyes and deciding to join the boy in restless slumber, "mon cadeau du ciel."

…

Erik woke up to a hand being placed on his shoulder. His eyes shot open and he was prepared to strangle the person who had touched him.

"Calm yourself, Erik. It's just me."

"Daroga, you know perfectly well not to bother me when I'm busy."

"You were asleep. The first time I've seen you asleep actually."

"Why are you here? What has happened to Christine?"

"Straight to the point as always." Nadir sat down in the chair opposite of Erik, noting how at ease the boy and Erik looked beside one another. "Christine is still in surgery."

"She's still alive?"

"Yes, but she's in critical condition." Nadir warned, his voice quiet and filled with remorse. "The doctors believe...the believe she's going to die."

Erik was silent for a moment. Instinctively, he held the little boy closer to him, rubbing his back and adjusting the blanket to cover him more.

"Will I be able to visit her?" Erik asked quietly.

"Raoul isn't even allowed in her room at the moment." Nadir said, knowing the truth was painful but he couldn't let Erik get his hopes up. "If she makes it through the surgery, you'll be able to talk to her. But…"

"She's going to die in a room full of strangers." Erik said bitterly, clenching his other fist, "The least they could do is have her husband near her. She shouldn't be alone when she's in that kind of agony. Is there any chance…"

"Slim." Nadir said softly, "I'm so sorry."

"Feel sorry for the boy," Erik whispered, staring at the sleeping boy, "Most likely he's going to wake up without a mother. Have they caught that whore that killed her?"

"Meg is still on the run, no doubt being aided by her mother."

Erik was silent. That woman would pay with her own blood if Christine died. That wretched slut would pay.

"What will you do?" Nadir asked.

"Well she tried to drown my son and then she shout my love, so I will do the same."

"I meant about the boy."

"He's mine. He would never be happy with Raoul. I promised Christine I would protect him."

"It's your decision, but I have to wonder how the boy would react if he had to live on the island where his mother was shot."

Nadir soon left, heading back to the hospital, promising to return as soon as he got information. Once more, Erik was left alone with the boy, bitterly recalling her words from the beginning of the week: come what may, the boy would be his.

The boy was now his...but the price had been too high.


	18. Chapter 18: Waiting

Chapter 18: Waiting

 **Author's note: so over the past couple of months I've been slowly rewriting this entire story. Nothing too over the top different, but different enough that you need to go back to Chapter 1 and start all over or else you will be really confused. I hit a wall with how it was written before but this time, everything is set up how I want it to and the story will be more fluid.**

 **Thank you so much for your patience. I would not have continued this story had it not been from the support of my followers and the amazing American production of LND I saw at the end of last summer. Be sure to check out the reworked 'Beauty Underneath' number and the new(ish) song 'The Streets of Coney Island' that actually allows me to proudly say I like this musical.**

Chapter 18: Waiting.

Raoul waited impatiently out side of Christine's room, waiting for any news. He hadn't slept at all the previous night and looked as if he had never slept in his life. His dark strawberry-blond hair was pasted to his scalp and forehead with sweet and grime. He was still wearing the clothes that were soaked in her blood. While he was disgusted with this, he couldn't bear to leave Christine long enough to go to the hotel to change or even to walk the two blocks to a store to purchase more clothes.

He hadn't left the hospital since Christine had been admitted. He had carried her there himself, saying a prayer with each step he took. He had waited in the hospital lobby while Christine went through surgery in a desperate attempt to save her life. The next morning, while she was holding on by a thread, Raoul (and the hospital staff) had been bombarded by newspaper reporters, wanting to get any dirt they could get about what happened. To Raoul's fury, a story of the opera star on her deathbed had already been printed by that morning and reporters wanted more. To Raoul's shame, he had knocked one of the reporters camera's out of his hand and smashed it.

To escape the camera flashes, Raoul had excused himself to the restroom and just waited until the officers came to thin the mob.

Raoul hated newspapers with a passion.

There was a time when he had relied on papers to be factual but now, especially in America, they were just a way to ruin any respectable man's reputation. It was all fake. It was all smoke and mirrors.

And Raoul sure had had enough of smoke and mirrors.

"Sir?" A nurse said, coming into the room.

"Yes?" Raoul said, glancing up at her.

"I have to ask you to leave, sir." The nurse said, in her usually polite business manor. "The doctors don't want you near the surgery room right now. If you could please go to the front lobby. I'm sorry sir."

"Alright." Raoul said, forgetting formality and manors, too exhausted and worried to worry about such trivial things at the moment.

"There's a bathroom at the end of the hall if you want to freshen up, sir." The nurse continued.

"Thanks." Raoul grumbled, standing up, feeling his stiff legs ache at the movement.

He stood up and gave a glance at the room in which his wife lay dying. He let out a pained sigh and headed downstairs to the lobby.

"Good day sir." The nurse half-heartedly responded.

Raoul made his way through the hospital and sat down in a chair in the lobby.

"Monsieur de Chagny." The persian man that he had met a few days ago called.

"Yes?" Raoul said, his tiredness showing in his voice. "You're Nadir, right? You work for...him."

"Yes monsieur." Nadir said, with a polite and slight bow. "I've been sent by Erik to keep an eye on Madame de Chagny."

"Should have guessed." Raoul said, continuing to walk towards the shop. "He always seems to have eyes on my wife."

"Indeed…" Nadir said with a sigh. "I am terribly sorry about what has happened to her. Is she…?"

"She's still alive." Raoul said letting a concerned sigh. "But barely. It damaged her stomach. She's still in surgery…they're hoping she pulls through but even if she does..."

Raoul's voice trailed off and grew silent.

"I understand." Nadir said, sympathy in his voice. "I know it won't bring much comfort to you, but Erik will be paying for any expenses the hospital charges and he has already had me call in the best doctor in the city of Manhattan to take over the procedures. He should be here within a few hours I believe."

"It's strange to want to thank the man who caused all of this." Raoul said, rubbing his temples. "Though, while I want to put all the blame on him, it was Miss Giry who pulled the trigger…"

"About that," Nadir whispered. "I'm sad to inform you that Miss Giry has not been taken in custody. The police reports have been filed but currently everyone's a suspect in the attempted murder of Madame de Chagny."

"Which means what going forward?"

"The police will have an investigation and all of us will be interrogated." Nadir said, "At least anyone that appeared in those photos that appeared in the newspaper. I wouldn't worry too much about that. The photos show Miss Giry with a gun and trying to drown Gustave: it's incriminating."

"That is if they find her." Raoul said bitterly.

"I assure you, monsieur, that they will." Nadir said, his voice just as tired sounding as Raoul. "Erik has called in every favor he is owed in an attempt to find her. As you know, monsieur, Erik hates to lose."

"So that dangerous woman will soon be behind bars?" Raoul asked hopefully.

"If she's lucky." Nadir said, almost pitying the woman. "He's...he's furious. I've never seen him this furious. Believe me, his temper is bad enough...imagine if he actually had a reason to be vengeful."

"Is...Is Gustave alright?" Raoul whispered nervously, hoping the boy hadn't succumb to Erik's violent state.

"As right as he can be." Nadir said in a hushed voice. "I checked up on him while he was there. Erik made sure he was warm and that he got plenty of rest. While You two don't get along, I can assure you Erik is quite capable of taking care of him."

"I agree." Raoul said, not feeling as bitter towards the Phantom-Erik as he had only days before, "I'll do anything, say anything, to make sure Gustave is safe. Erik feels the same. And currently, he's safest with him."

"I'm glad you agree." Nadir said, impressed with Raoul's decision. "I can assure you, there isn't a place safer for the boy than in Erik's care. Hell would sooner freeze over than Erik letting the boy be in harm's way after what has happened."

"He shows affection by locking the people he loves away from the world…" Raoul said, sorrowfully. "Unfortunately, that's the only way that I can see to keep Gustave safe for now."

"So you trust him?" Nadir asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. Though I have a feeling it will be like pulling nails to get him out of his custody now that he has him."

"He is quite stubborn."

Raoul placed his head in his hands and began praying, tears silently falling from the corners of his eyes. Nadir simply sat beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

About an hour later, a doctor came into the lobby.

"Mr. de Chagny?" The Doctor said, poker faced.

"Yes," Raoul said, looking up.

"If you could walk with me, please."

Raoul let out a sigh and prepared himself for the worst. He shakily stood up, feeling like he was about to fall over at any moment.

Nadir watched with a heavy heart as Raoul walked into the hallway.


	19. Chapter 19: Vengeance

Chapter 19: Vengeance

"No…" The Phantom's hands trembled, clenching the newspaper. "no...No!"

He threw the paper down, letting out a pained growl. He punched the wall, the wood splitting and cutting into his hand, cutting his gloves and scraping his flesh. He continued to pummel the wall, but it wasn't hurting enough. Nothing could compare to the knives being stabbed into his heart.

Everything was blurry. Everything was pain. Everything meant nothing to him anymore.

She was dead.

His anger faded and he let out an agonisingly sorrowful sob. He fell to his knees, gripping his flesh, no doubt creating more scars across his legs.

"Christine…" He moaned in mourning. "Christine…"

"I'm so sorry." Darius said, his voice full of sympathy. "She was a beautiful young woman."

"She was a goddess…"

He gazed up at the mirror in front of him. His eyes were red and filled with angry, bitter tears. Darius stood behind him, dressed in complete white, a look of concern on his face.

He threw his hand through the glass, shattering it, the pieces cutting into his knuckles.

"She was an angel!" He screamed before his voice was choked out once more by sobs.

He was grateful that Darius had the common sense to back away as he continued to destroy the mirror. When his rage was once more gown, though obviously not to be gone for long, he turned to Darius.

"Have they caught the whore responsible?" The Phantom gowled.

"No," Darius said, backing away from the man. "The police are still looking for her."

"She's going to pay…" The Phantom clenched his blood soaked fists. "I swear I won't rest until she's dead."

"Mr. Erik?" a timid voice said, coming from the hallway.

Erik turned to see the boy, clinging to the doorframe.

The world halted. This boy-that was all he had now. His precious son...her son. Their beautiful, beautiful child that they had created so many years ago. It was like that realisation had truly hit him. He had a son...with Christine. He had never thought he would had a child. Certainly no woman would have ever wanted to have one with him and for the longest time he was certain his deformity would have caused him to be sterile. And yet, after one beautiful night of pleasure with an angel on earth, he fathered a child. And not just any child, a beautiful, perfect little boy. Sickly, rather giggly, extremely intelligent...and her's...but no longer.

"What's wrong?" Gustave asked, eyeing Darius spectically.

"Gustave." Erik said his name, regaining his composure.

Erik walked over to the boy and picked him up.

Oh those beautiful silver eyes.

"What's wrong?" Gustave asked again, though he suspected he knew the answer. "What's going on?"

Erik placed his hand on his face, wiping away the boy's frightened tears, brushing his dark curls. Christine...Christine's beautiful curls/

"I'm just angry." Erik admitted, but his voice was calmer. "I'm angry that the woman who shot your mother is still free."

Gustave's little hands went up to touch his hand. They were so small in comparison to his. They weren't even larger than his palm. His little fingers trailed the fresh scars on his bloody had, droplets of red fluid getting on his small hands.

"I'm going after her." Erik said, Holding the boy a bit too tight. "And you are coming with me."

"Not to be questioning your reasoning," Darius gave his input, "but are you sure it's a good idea to carry a little kid around while on a manhunt?"

"I promised his mother that I would keep him in my care." The Phantom glared at Darius. "Anywhere I go, he goes too."

Gustave gave a cough.

"Erik, the boy has a cold." Darius tried to reason, "he needs to stay inside and rest. I could watch him if you want."

"I have already told you what I am going to do," The Phantom said, growing impatient. "Anywhere I go, the boy goes too."

It was clear that Darius wanted to argue the point more, but the blood lust in Erik's eyes silenced him and caused him to leave.

Erik, determined and angry, quickly wrapped his bloody hand while Gustave put his now clean and dry clothes back on.

"Mr. Erik?" Gustave timidly approached him, afraid to ask but he knew he had to know. "Is...Is my mom… is she…."

Once more, Erik couldn't stop staring at the little boy. Was he the one who should tell him this? The boy barely knew him...but even he couldn't deny that the boy had latched onto him and didn't want to let go. While misplaced, the boy cared for Erik. He knew that he would be there to dry his tears that would surely come.

Erik got on his knees, sitting so close to the young boy. He gently gripped the boy's arms, rubbing them soothingly.

"Gustave…" Erik tried to find the words. "Gustave...I...I'm so sorry. But...your mother…"

Gustave knew what he was trying to say. He burst into tears and buried himself into his shoulder.

"No-no-no!" Gustave cried, yelling things that no one could comprehend.

Erik felt himself begin to cry as he held the boy tightly to the boy who kept calling for his mom.

"Gustave," Erik stroked the boy's hair, "While it won't give you much comfort, she's in heaven. She's in a better place…"

"I-I know." Gustave sobbed, clinging to him desperately. "I-I-I just-just di-didn't wan-want her to-to…."

"I know." Erik said, his sorrow taking control of his voice. "She was too young...too perfect to go…"

It was about ten minutes before Gustave broke away from Erik's shoulder, though tears were still streaming from his face and his coughs were now mixed with hiccups.

"Gustave." Erik looked into his face though the boy was still in his arms. "I'm going after the woman who killed your mother."

"Are-are you-you gonna hurt h-her?"

Erik could tell that the boy didn't want Meg to get hurt. He had that sense of human kindness in him, a kindness that was too good for the world-just like his mother.

He wanted to lie to him and tell him that he wouldn't hurt the woman. But Erik had every intention of strangling the whore to death with his own hands and then toss the body into the sea. He couldn't tell that to his little boy...looking at him made him feel conflicted about what he planned to do. He already had so much blood on his hands. Killing had forced Christine to turn away from him...It wouldn't be hard to assume that the same would apply to Gustave.

Thinking about Christine rekindled his anger. That disgusting woman was the reason Christine was dead-the reason this boy was now without a mother.

She would pay.

"I don't know." Erik lied. "All I want is for her to face justice. I want to avenge your mother."

Gustave remained quiet, wringing his hands together.

"Gustave," Erik adored saying the name. "I promise you this: I am going to protect you."

Gustave embraced Erik, burying himself in his chest, both of them needing to be held.

Oh he wanted to tell Gustave the truth… He wanted to tell the boy that he was his father. He wanted to tell him that the reason he wanted to protect him wasn't because he was an old family friend. But he couldn't do that to the boy. He had already been through too much...and he was about to go through so much worse.


	20. Chapter 20: The Hunt Begins

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Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Hunt Begins

With little Gustave safely tucked under his arm, The Phantom began to roam the island. Every once in a while, Gustave's sobs would worsen and it would heightening his rage, causing him to press forward more diligently.

They were in the maze of mirrors when Gustave finally silenced, his tears finally spent for the night. He gripped Erik's coat tighter, burying his little head into the fabric.

Every little touch made Erik's heart throb.

'Tell him.' The little voice in Erik's head instructed, 'tell him you're his true father.'

Erik physically shook his head. The boy just lost his mother...he couldn't have that thrown on him just after experiencing that. He was still mourning the loss of his angel of a mother...He couldn't force him to mourn the loss of his father too even if it did mean he got another one.

'But you want him.' The devil's voice whispered.

He did want the boy. He wanted the boy so desperately. He couldn't help but wonder if the the boy would accept him as his permanent guardian even if he didn't know their blood relation. He wanted to believe that Gustave would choose him. But was it even Gustave's choice to make? He was only 5 years old...he couldn't make such a big decision so young. But then who's was it to make? Raoul, while he had been Christine's husband, was now who Gustave belonged to. Erik...the Phantom had sired him. The boy-was His. He would never be happy with Raoul. And Erik would never be able to face the world without Gustave by his side.

Once more this week, his face was reflected back at him a thousand fold. But the illusion was shattered...literally. Two of the mirrors were completely shattered, breaking the endless illusion. Christine...she had broken the mirrors...desperate to rescue her son.

"Ah...Christine."

He got to his knee and let out a single, low sob.

She was gone.

She was gone forever.

What happens now? What happens after he finds Meg and makes her pay for what she did? What if...What if Gustave was taken away from him too? What would he do? How would he keep moving forward knowing that what he desired was in the past.

So many dreams had been shattered in an instant. His heart still longed for her to be by his side with their little boy in their arms. His lips tingled with their kiss from only a few days ago.

He held the boy tighter and left the maze of mirrors.

…

He had searched the entire island and he found nothing. She wasn't there. He had hoped that she had been foolish enough to remain on the island where he could easily find her. It would have made this so much easier.

He stared at the skyline of the city. It was still deep into night, a time he felt safe and in control.

"What-what happens now?" Gustave asked timidly, rubbing the tirednes out of his eyes.

"I search the city." The Phantom responded coldly. "I'm not going to rest until I find her."

Gustave leaned his head backed against the Phantom's chest, falling back asleep unsure if Erik had kissed his forehead or not.


	21. Chapter 21: The Bowery

Chapter 21: The Bowery

It didn't take long for the Phantom to grow accustomed to the small weight against his back. Every little movement the boy made filled him with bitter hope which he was in desperate need of. He had to smoke out a single rat in the most vermin filled city in the country. Possibly the globe.

But he knew where she would be.

Well at least where to begin.

The bar was packed. Drunken sailors were spending their earnings on food, drink and pleasure all in one night knowing they would be back on a ship the next morning. Despite the drunken state of the patrons, there eyes followed the slender, black clad man whose face was half hidden behind gauze and a broad brimmed fedora, morbidly curious as to why a well dressed man had come into the rather gruff bar, with a child on his back of all things. No one dared question him. They knew better than anyone to not bother a man whose air reeked of bloodlust.

While dressed in a suit that cost more than the total yearly salary in the room combined, the Phantom was not discomforted by the wrecked sight of the worst filthiest scum. He had seen worse. He had lived through worse. Only last year he would have considered himself as one of the low life's. But there was someone who did not deserve to view such horrors-now or ever.

"Gustave," The Phantom instructed, "keep your eyes closed."

He felt the boy weakly nod his head against his back.

He continued to the bar, throwing a few woman of the night off his arm in the process.

"What would you like, sir?" The bartender hesitated at the word 'sir', showing that he was not used to speaking formally to the patrons.

"Information." The Phantom said quietly. "I'm looking for a young, blonde woman. An 'entertainer' named Meg Giry."

"Ah the Oh La La girl." The bartender said, used to this conversation. "A lot of folks ask for that one. And I have to tell them all that she doesn't work here anymore."

"Where does she work then."

"Every heard of the Bowery?"

"I should have guessed."

"She hasn't been there for a while, but she's doing one tonight. Desperate for money I suppose."

"Thanks for your help."

He threw some dollar coins on the table before turning his heals and leaving.

…

It was quite the lively place. The streets filled with so many that the carriage could no longer move across the streets. The stench of stale beer and various body fluids filled his senses. Women in various senses of undress littered the sidewalks, calling over potential drunken customers. The Phantom couldn't help but notice a giggly, young woman with her face plastered with makeup and ribbons in her hair…

"Wha's the problem officer?" The girl slurred, pressing her hands to her swaying hips, her eyes so narrow she almost looked asleep."

"Intoxicated while in public." The officer said, leading her away, her hands behind her back.

The Phantom gave a grim laugh. I wasn't because of her scandalous profession that she was being arrest for but rather the fact that she was drunk in public. While he was repulsed by a woman doing either, he had to argue that selling virtue was a worse crime than being intoxicated in public.

Despite only having been with a woman willingly one night, he had never considered paying a woman to entertain him. He would never taint the experience he had with Christine...especially not now.

He wove his way through the crowded streets to where the most chaotic part of the street was: the Bowery building.

"Are your eyes still closed?" The Phantom asked.

Gustave's little head feebly nodded.

The Phantom entered the crowded, wild, energetic building.

He was a bit surprised that the building turned out to be a theater. Now in the traditional sense as there were no seats other than a few tables in private compartments along the edges of the open floor where a drunk mob dance was taking place. But there was a stage with an orchestra pit and a conductor, playing a lively tune while a passable singer sang the show tune. There was a second floor, the Phantom knew, but he also knew what awaited there.

It was-It was like the American version of the Moulin Rouge back in Paris.

But definitely American.

The song ended to thunderous applause and the conductor began to speak.

"What a lady, ladies and gentlemen!" The conductor said to the crowd, clearly the host of this never ending party.

The crowd responded enthusiastically.

" _Monsuir Y."_ Gustave had to shout in order for him to hear. " _C'est trop fort. Ça me fait mal aux oreilles."_

" _Ne t'inquiète pas."_ The Phantom assured him, " _Nous ne restons pas longtemps._ We'll be gone soon."

"Now some of you may recall a performer that left out midst about a year ago." The conductor continued, keeping up his over acting routine.

The crowd booed.

"It was such a sad day indeed." The conductor said to the audience's approval. "But I have a surprise for you. For one night only, I give you, the Oh La La Girl!"

The crowd cheered as a scandalously dressed blonde girl appeared on stage in a puff of smoke and glitter. The Phantom repressed an eye roll.

Tacky. At least his shows had some sense of class to them. He had never approved of the cheap shows Giry continued to push. He wanted a wonderland- Giry wanted an amusement park. And that's all it brought people-amusement. Not joy. Not fun. Not memories. Not wonder. Just amusement.

"Dearest friends, dear gentlemen," Meg began singing. "Listen to my song."

The Phantom, now certain that it was the Giry (recognizing her shrill voice anywhere), tuned out her entire number as he made his way over to the conductor and the owner of the building.

"Excuse me, Sir." The Phantom pulled the man aside, not really caring who he was pulling him away from in the process. "Are you the owner of this facility."

"That depends on who's asking." The man responded.

"Very clever," The Phantom said, not amused with the lackluster response. "I'd like to introduce myself. I am Duke Charles Mulheim from France and I was wondering if you would like to discuss with me about me investing into your facility."

The man's eyes bulged wide.

"Oh course sir," The man led the Phantom away from the dancing, "To my office. This way sir."

' _American's, always on the move'_ the Phantom thought, realizing that this man was probably a terrible businessman-he hadn't asked for any proof of identity or wealth or anything to ensure this would be a success.

No matter.

Within a few minutes, the Phantom was sitting on a chair, Gustave half asleep with his head propped up against the Phantom's arm, both facing the other man behind the desk.

It continued as an ordinary business deal. Though the Phantom had no intention of financing the gruff theater, he behaved as if he was interested right up until the moment when his real desires came out.

"Of course, my generous offer will be backed up with a deposit." The Phantom said, pulling out a large diamond ring. "It's worth about 23,000, well enough to ensure I will keep my end of the bargain."

"I'll know if it's a fake." The conductor said, reaching across the desk to grab the ring which the Phantom let him snatch.

The conductor studied the ring from every angle, pulling out a magnifying glass and doing everything a professional jewel expert would and to the Phantom's surprise, doing the techniques correctly.

"Whoa…" the conductor exclaimed.

It was a fake. But a very, very good fake. Or a very stupid man examining it.

"It seems everything is in order." The conductor said, standing up and offering his hand for the Phantom to shake.

"Not just yet." The Phantom continued. "You've got your insurance. I need mine before I sign."

"What did you have in mind?" The conductor said, clearly ready to give anything.

"The girl." The Phantom said. "A night with the Oh La La girl."

"Done." The conductor said instantly. "You'll have her as soon as the paper's are signed."

"After." The Phantom said. "You have my diamond, I'll take yours."

"Alright." The conductor said, leading him to the door. "I'll show you to her dressing room."

…

The Phantom rather liked how American's didn't ask questions. Had he tried to bring a child into a brothel in France, he would have been stopped before he even reached the door. But here he was in a performers dressing room with his son leaning against his lap.

Once more, he was playing with the boy's curls. He couldn't get enough of those dark, thick locks. He couldn't have been more perfect even if the Phantom had designed every feature. Intelligent and witty like his father, but kind and beautiful like his mother.

What a beautiful deity Hades and Persephone had created.

He heard the door knob handle.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, monsieur." The blonde girl said, entering the room. "But here I am-the Oh La La girl."

She didn't fool him for a second.

"You are quite a terrible actress," The Phantom said, standing up. "You are not the girl I just heard singing. You are not Meg Giry."

"But of course I am." The girl continued, hugging her curves.

"I am not a patient man to begin with." The Phantom growled, glancing at Gustave who was still half asleep on the chair. "Do not test me by lying."

"I can assure you sir, I am just as good as the Oh La La girl."

"What you believe to be good at does not concern me." The Phantom said, rushing towards her, his hand grasping her throat as he shoved her into the wall. "Where is Meg Giry?!"

"I-I don-don't kn-know!" The girl stammered, gasping for breathe.

The Phantom clenched his hand harder, cutting off the woman's airway even more.

"Where is she?!" The Phantom screamed, sending tremors down the girl's body.

"Th-the tr-train...st-"

The Phantom threw the girl into the wall and turned around, ready to leave.

He saw two large silver eyes staring at him.

Little Gustave stood there, his eyes wide in fear and his hands covering his mouth. Erik paused for a moment, realizing his mistake, before taking a step towards Gustave. It broke his heart to see Gustave take a step back.

"Gustave, it's alright." Erik said, trying to comfort the child. "It's just me. You know I'm not going to hurt you."

Gustave stopped backing away but didn't go to him. The Phantom just scooped up the little boy, once more comforted by the boy being in his arms.

"I warned you." The Phantom said, "I warned you not to open your eyes."

Gustave remained silent but let out a cough.

The Phantom walked out of the Bowery and into the raining night.

x


End file.
